The Price You Pay
by SaltyJak
Summary: With a recent tragedy fresh in his mind, Timmy makes a wish that will have farther reaching consequences than he ever intended, all it could cost him is his sanity.
1. Chapter 1

It was raining.

He found it funny, despite the recent turn of events that had befallen him, he found it funny, it seemed that whenever someone in his family died, it would rain the day of the funeral, without fail. It rained especially hard today, likely because it was his parents funeral he was attending. It seemed weird that the heavens themselves weeped for his parents, yet he didn't, not a single tear, though the rain covered up his lack of tears.

He stood now, at the fresh grave, where six feet below his parents rested.

He was surprised at the turnout, his parents knew many people that he didn't, most of them telling him everything would be all right, that he was in shock and the emotions would hit him like a freight train, and a few spoke in hushed voices that his parents deserved what happened to them for drinking and driving. It didn't matter, it felt like nothing mattered, he felt empty, but why? His parents never cared for him, always leaving him with _her_.

His friends showed up too, with their families of course, to give their condolences, but he didn't care, didn't even acknowledge them. They were dumbstruck, but reassured by their parents that he was just 'in shock'. So after the procession, they said their goodbyes and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts, well not completely alone, Cosmo and Wanda were there, flies on his shoulder in the pouring rain, and _she _was there as well, waiting for him near her car. He wondered why she even showed up when she did, she was the last to arrive, dressed in a black dress fitting for a funeral, and sunglasses to hide her eyes. He briefly wondered if she wore them to hide her tears, then thought better of it, _she_ couldn't cry, _she _was a devil, and devils never cry. He was surprised to see her show up, but chalked it up to her being sad that her main source of income was gone, at first anyway, he never could have imagined her real reason.

"Timmy, we're here for you, you know that, right?" the pinkish colored fly on his shoulder spoke in a comforting tone.

"Hm." he couldn't bring himself to speak more than that, afraid that he might break down into a sobbing wreck if he did.

Not because of the death of his parents, he still couldn't find any emotion for them, they were gone and that was that. No, he was emotionally unstable because of the news that came after their deaths, they had left everything, the house, the car, all their belongings to him... when he was old enough to responsibly own them. For now, and the foreseeable future, they left their things, and him, in the care of _her_, of all people, _her_.

Not to any blood relatives, nor to any of his friends and their families, no, they left it all to _her_, claiming she was like the daughter they never had. He didn't get a say, his protests fell on deaf ears, everyone believed she was the best thing to ever happen to the Turners, nevermind that he told them of everything she had done to him, they chalked it up to the wild imaginings of a child in grief.

Her family had showed up before her, saying how sorry they were, that his parents were taken too soon. Tootie ran at him and nearly tackled him to the ground, bawling her eyes out and sniffling all the while, wrapping her arms around him and saying how sorry she was. He put a single arm around her, all he could muster, and murmured "Thanks." to her. She sat next to him the whole time, despite her family sitting well away, she sat next to him, looking more like a small teenage wife than his slightly obsessive friend.

Even Tootie left eventually, leaving him alone with his godparents and _her_.

The death of his parents brought a new fear to him, one he had never worried about until now, since he was so young. He feared death, for the first time in his life, he feared dying. He never feared it before because it seemed like such a far off concept that children didn't worry about, children lived forever, or their parents would protect them from death. Now however, he was alone, no parents, just his godparents and _her_.

She owned the house now, and everything in it, and him. She would likely have no trouble paying the bills, her babysitting ensured an endless supply of money, that, and her investments in the stock exchange. She likely jumped at the prospect, a free house? And free stuff? And a slave to top it all off? Who in their right mind, with a personality like hers, would turn down such a lucrative proposal?

He was thankful that she seemed to care enough to let him grieve though. Surprised? Definitely, but thankful. Eventually he felt he stayed there feeling sorry for himself long enough. He stood up and walked over to _her_ car, looking at her in the pouring rain. Her makeup was beginning to smear from the rain and she frowned at him, though her eyes didn't show pity, or anger, or even sympathy, just indifference.

"You should take a picture Twerp, it'll last longer."

"Hm." again, all he could muster.

He got in the passenger seat and she in the driver's, then started the car back toward his house.

She left him for a few hours to get her things from her house, his house was effectively her house now. She seemed awfully thrilled to be leaving her own family behind, but it didn't matter, nothing did now, nothing ever would again. He wondered if maybe that's how he was grieving, not by crying or being sad, but feeling nothing, like a part of his soul was ripped out and could never be restored. Maybe this would be how it felt when he eventually lost Cosmo and Wanda, he was fifteen now, the day they got assigned to a new child was likely fast approaching. He felt fear then, fear that he would be alone in the world, no one to care about him, no one to comfort him, just a slow spiral into the dark, and then he too would be gone. Just a memory to fade away into darkness and be forgotten. He wondered offhandedly if he should speed up the process, end his life so he could be with his parents again, maybe the afterlife would change them and they would love him like they should have in life. He angrily cast the thought out, nothing to gain by dying, might as well live, he'd rather not put the people he still cared about through what he just went through, it was too much, what if they followed suit? Just an endless cycle of suicide until no one was left, no one to remember anyone...

She returned a few hours later, carrying multiple suitcases and furniture inside, he wasn't sure why, but he decided to help her, this girl who made his life miserable. She had a look of surprise on her face for just an instant, then it disappeared, likely never to be seen again. She muttered "Thanks" to him, he nearly dropped her things when he heard it.

He tried wishing them back, but apparently the rules of magic didn't allow it.

"Sport, I wish we could, I really do, but there are no loopholes for this. Once people are gone, they can't be wished back, not now, not ever."

"What's left then?! When you guys are gone, what do I have left?!"

"There's always... _her_..."

"Right, the evil babysitter, bane of my existence! I'm so lucky!"

He didn't talk to them for the rest of the night, or the following day. Happy as he was to have godparents and magic at his disposal, they didn't matter if he couldn't bring back what was lost... but he _could_ do something to save himself, he didn't want to die, didn't want to put others through his pain and he knew how to do it, so long as the rules didn't interfere...

It was a selfish thought, incredibly selfish, but he didn't care, not about the selfishness of it, and not about the consequences he could not even begin to foresee.

He thought for several hours about how to properly word it, surprised that _she_ never called him down to do things like chores or laundry or dig a hole for a pool in the front yard. Eventually he thought he had the idea ready and spoke:

"I wish I was immortal. Not that kind in movies where people live forever and still get killed by a knife or disease, I mean full immortality, live forever, invulnerability, the whole nine yards."

"Timmy that's-"

"Done!" Timmy was, for once, grateful for his Godfather's lack of foresight. The wand sparked for a few moments that seemed more like an eternity before the characteristic poofing sound was heard.

Timmy looked himself over, he didn't appear to be a statue, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him physically.

"So... it worked?"

"Yep!" said Cosmo triumphantly.

"Great!" Timmy smirked as he continued to look himself over, hoping he wouldn't find anything on his person to suggest a downside to the wish.

Wanda was happy that a spark of her original godchild from before the tragedy was able to shine through, but still felt he needed to hear what she needed to say. "Timmy, the rulebook doesn't have any loopholes for that kind of wish because people always end up regretting it, so much so that it can never, _ever_ be undone. The tragedies that an immortal must go through are innumerable, each one a heavy weight on the immortal's soul. Everyone they love, they must watch them die, all their family members, friends, acquaintances, everyone."

"Then that is my burden to bear, at least I know I can handle it after losing both my parents and being put in this situation..."

"I'm not finished, the person who makes the wish is also doomed to be alone at the end of everything, except of course, the other immortals will be there too, but most have gone crazy by then and are little more than unthinking beasts, attacking anything, and anyone, they feel like."

"I'm not afraid, Wanda."

"And the person who makes the wish also curses their greatest nemesis, they too are blessed, or cursed, depending on how you look at it I suppose, with immortality. A cruel joke by the Council of Fairies, I'm guessing. The only person left alive in your life is the one you hate the most."

"I don't have any nemeses left, they're all gone..."

"_And_ the person who makes the wish is destined to fall in love with that nemesis when the sexual tension between them becomes too great, and they are cursed to spend eternity together, forevermore."

"That's... quite a clause... Kinda sounds like a joke if you ask me."

"Which is why I tried to warn you..."

"Pfft, whatevs, I have no nemeses, like I said."

"So you're okay with being fifteen forever?"

"Yep."

"And watching everyone around you die. While you stay the same?"

"Better they die and I live with the sadness of losing them then the other way around, I can handle guilt Wanda, trust me."

"You only think you can! You've lost people sure, but you'll lose _everyone_! The depression will crush you! It will destroy you! You think you can handle that?!" Wanda had never yelled at him, not really, and he was taken aback by her sudden outburst, though he wasn't about to show it.

"Yeah, I can." his face betrayed no emotion.

"...Fine."

The two fairies poofed back into their fishbowl, Wanda not wanting to argue anymore, Cosmo being preoccupied with a shiny buffalo nickel.

Timmy went downstairs to find Vicky in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for stew.

"You can cook?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be able to cook, Twerp?"

"I just figured you were too lazy to cook, everytime you were over here you either microwaved something or ordered out..."

"Well I can cook just fine." the normal edge in Vicky's voice was strangely absent, perhaps the deaths of his parents affected her more than she let on?

"You'll have to teach me sometime, I can't cook much of anything..."

"Pfft, we'll see." Vicky turned to throw the chopped vegetables into the pot and didn't notice the floor was wet from when she washed them.

Timmy watched in what felt like slow motion as Vicky slipped and threw the cutting board away from her self, but hung on to the sharp butcher knife for some reason, and fell forward, directly on to it. He heard the sickening sound of it enter her chest and scrape past her ribs. He was frozen in place, unable to move or help her. He watched as she lay there for a few minutes, the blood pooling around her body. His mind suddenly returned and commanded his body to move, to help this person who had(though very, very rarely) helped him.

He ran over to her and flipped her over, the knife was buried nearly to the handle in her chest, and with all the blood pouring out, had likely pierced her heart, her eyes were closed and her face was pale.

"Vicky! Vicky! Damnit! You can't do this to me! I can't go to a foster home! Wake up! Don't be dead! C'mon, say something!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Vicky come on! This isn't funny! I can't deal with this much in the same day! And I don't know CPR!" the tears still did not come, he figured it was because this was _her_, anyone else close to him and he would have been crying his eyes out, but not _her_, she didn't care about him, why should he care about her? Yet here he was, cradling her in his arms like they were lovers and she had just been killed by some unknown assailant.

She awoke to the Twerp pleading for her to wake up. Wake up? When had she fallen asleep? The thoughts came racing back, the vegetable chopping, the fall, the knife piercing her chest, and her blood pouring out of her. She must have been knocked unconscious when she hit the floor.

She looked at _him,_ he was cradling her in his arms and looking at the phone on the wall, likely trying to figure out if he should put her down and rush to the phone and call 911, or just stay here and hold her since she may already be dead.

"_You should have called 911, idiot."_ the thought came to her and brought with it some anger. Why didn't he call an ambulance? Waiting this long, she would be dead by the time they got here...

She looked at her chest to find the knife still buried in it.

"_Why am I even still alive?"_ there was no pain from the knife in her chest, though blood continued to gush out from around the knife. There was however, a dull tingling sensation from the flesh around the knife.

"Twerp."

No response, evidently he was still lost in thought over what to do.

"Twerp."

Still no response. He continued staring at the phone, then the knife, never raising his gaze to be eye level with hers.

"Timmy!"

Hearing his name brought him out of his apparent trance and caused him to look at her.

"V-Vicky?!"

"Well unless you thought you were lovingly cradling someone else... Yeah, me."

He moved his arms out from under her and dropped her, causing her head to bang on the kitchen floor from the sudden lack of support.

"Ow... thanks, jerk."

"S-sorry..."

Vicky leaned forward and stuck her arm to her side to lean on it for support. Then looked again at the knife protruding from her chest, then to Timmy, then back to the knife.

"You couldn't pull it out?!"

"Well I- ...I thought if I did you'd bleed to death..."

"I'm bleeding pretty profusely now! If you pulled it out you could have at least put pressure on it and a towel or... something to stop the bleeding!"

"Sorry..."

"Grr..." Vicky didn't bother calling 911 and ripped the knife out herself, throwing it across the room and causing it to stick in the kitchen's far wall. By now they were sitting in a large pool of her blood.

Timmy stood up and began to make his way out of the kitchen to grab some towels for the blood and Vicky's chest wound before he was stopped by her voice.

"You gonna help a lady up or what?"

Ignoring the smart-ass comment his mind was cooking up about her not being much of a lady, he returned and extended his hand, which she met with a bone crushing grip of her own.

"I was going to get you some towels..."

"No need." Vicky ripped off her green T-shirt that she apparently changed into while she had gone to her house to get her things, leaving her in a black bra and her usual black jeans. Timmy put his hand over his eyes immediately after she had done so, hoping she thought that he hadn't seen anything.

She looked over at him and merely 'Hmphed', then looked at her chest expecting a gaping wound, but finding nothing. "What the?" She grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and wet it, then wiped away the blood around where her wound should have been, again she found nothing, her skin was unbroken, though there was a cut in the fabric of her bra. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Timmy moved his hand from his eyes and looked at Vicky... before his eyes lowered to where she was looking: her chest. He too stared in disbelief, no wound or bleeding, not even a scar, then became transfixed by something far more interesting than the lack of a wound on Vicky's chest, this being Vicky's chest.

"There's nothing! No hole, no scar, nothing! That's what!" Vicky was in disbelief over the lack of a wound, but was pulled from her thoughts by Timmy's unmoving gaze. "What? What are you looking at? Is there a wound I'm not seeing?" After a few seconds of silence, Vicky remembered she was talking to a fifteen year old boy, and she was essentially showing off her 'goods'.

"Christ, don't you get enough of that on the internet? I mean, I'm covered in my own blood here!"

Timmy noticed she was talking, but didn't understand, it sounded to him like what he was told shellshock was like, just indistinct sounds.

"Hey. Hey!" the red-head snapped her fingers in front of Timmy's face several times.

Timmy finally awoke from his thoughts and stared at Vicky's face.

"Did- did you say something?"

"Yeah, I asked if you don't get enough boobs through the internet, you were staring at mine for so long..." she said this, though didn't bother to cover up.

"Wha-N-no I..."

"You _don't_ get enough looks at boobs on the internet? You spend all day on the computer, I find that hard to believe."

"No... I don't look at boobs on the internet. What? You think that because I'm a teenage boy, I must think about sex all the time?"

"That's what I'm suggesting, yep."

"Well you're wrong. Just because most people my age do, doesn't mean I do."

"Are you trying to explain yourself to me? I really don't care how you spend your time, only how you waste mine."

Apparently, a near death experience had little effect on Vicky.

"Well then... Are you okay?"

"Don't pretend you care Twerp, I don't like liars or pretenders."

"Isn't that kinda like calling the kettle black, Pot?"

"Unless you want to find out how many of your teeth I can knock out with one punch, I suggest you start acting a little more appreciative towards me."

"Appreciate the fact that my evil babysitter, who until today, I thought was finally out of my life, is now my legal guardian? I have trouble wrapping my head around that concept."

"Ooh... You're lucky your parents' funeral was today, else I might do something we'd both regret..."

"I'm lucky my parents died?!"

"Yeah, you are! It means you have time to write up a will tonight before I shatter your spine tomorrow!"

"What drugs were my parents on when they hired you and then wrote you into their will?"

"Listen up you little shit! If I hadn't stepped up, you would be in a foster home right now, or worse, a group home, I'll give you that I'm not a good person, but I've never hit you, not _ever_, so you should be happy that I was wiling to step up to the plate. You think the foster parents in these homes wouldn't hit you? Wouldn't make you more miserable than I ever have? It's a dark, _dark_ world out there Timmy. I'm a saint compared to what you could've had..."

Timmy was surprised at this outpouring of emotion by Vicky, but it didn't change how he saw her. She tortured him for years, and at fourteen his parents finally told him he didn't need a sitter anymore, he feared the loss of Cosmo and Wanda, but it never came, now not only was she back, she was living with him, at least until he was old enough for the courts to determine he no longer needed a legal guardian.

"...So those threats you just made... they were of the empty variety?"

"Don't give me that, you know they were... think back to every single time I've threatened to hurt you physically, have I ever followed through?"

Timmy reached back as far as his memory would allow and realized she spoke the truth, she had never once physically harmed him, she had threatened to countless times, but never actually did.

She stared at him for several minutes before her impatience got the better of her and she spoke.

"I'm right, you know I am."

"Fine, so you've never hit me... that doesn't make everything else okay!"

"I didn't say it did, but I really don't give a damn about whether it's okay or not. You're stuck with me at least until you're eighteen, and if I have my way, I'll just tell the judges that you're unfit to take care of yourself, and volunteer to do so for as long as I see fit. Therefore, I suggest you try your hardest to stay on my good side, or else we'll be living together for the rest of our natural born lives."

"You can't do that!"

"Watch me."

Timmy stood there for awhile, contemplating what Vicky had said before he spoke.

"How's your chest? You okay?" he added just an ounce of caring into his voice, telling himself it was to make her happy.

"That's more like it, Twerp. You learn fast. And you can see my chest. Doesn't it look fine?"

To Timmy, it looked more than fine, but he surmised that she meant in regards to flesh wounds, not her breasts.

"Well I can't see anything-"

"I think you can see quite a bit..."

"-but there could be internal damage..."

"Well I'm not going to the hospital, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't."

"Well that just leaves an explanation as to what the hell just happened. I'm pretty amazing, but a knife to the heart should kill me..."

"Maybe because there's a black hole where your heart should be?"

"Bite me."

"Well what else could it be-" a thought then entered Timmy's head. "Oh no, no no no no no."

"What?"

"For all that is holy, please let it not be that!"

"What?!"

"Nothing! Gotta go!" he sprinted out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, throwing the door open then slamming it closed.

Vicky was left standing alone in the kitchen. "That was weird..." she then turned and stared at the large pool of blood on the floor. "I... should probably clean this up..."

"Cosmo, Wanda!"

His godparents poofed out of the fishbowl.

"What's the matter, Timmy?"

"I wish I could undo that last wish!"

"That's not going to work, sport. The wish can never be undone."

"Not even if I go back in time and stop myself?"

"Nope, not even then. I told you it would be a wish you'd regret. I just didn't expect you to start regretting it so soon..."

"That's because I just realized who my nemesis is! I've had so many nemeses, why did it have to be Vicky?!"

"Likely because she's the only one left. Everyone else was destroyed or banished, and besides, would you really want to be in an eternal romantic relationship with Nega-Timmy? Or Francis? Or Ricky?"

"Oh God! Why would you put those images in my head?!"

"See? At least your arch-nemesis is female..."

"But it's still Vicky! Why would I ever love her?! Why would I even _like_ her?!"

"Well you'd best get used to the idea, Timmy. She isn't going anywhere anytime soon..."

"Great, could this day get any worse?" he waited for something to happen that would push him further toward the edge, but nothing came.

"Well sport, I hate to say I told you so but..."

"Yeah yeah, at least I still have you two... for now." he had a feeling that they wouldn't be around much longer.

"There ya go Sport! Look at the brighter side of life!"

"Twerp! Get down here! _Now!_" Vicky yelled up the stairs.

"I'd best be going, might as well appease the person I'm spending the rest of eternity with..."

Cosmo and Wanda returned to their fishbowl and Timmy returned to the kitchen wondering why Vicky was yelling now. He was met with the sight of Vicky sitting at the table, holding a meat cleaver in her hand, the other hand sitting on the table.

"Watch this!" she brought the cleaver down on her forearm and it sliced in all the way to the bone. Timmy winced at the sight.

"What are you doing?!"

"Just watch!" she pulled the cleaver out of the bone with some difficulty and set it down in front of her, Timmy watched the cleaver and didn't notice her arm heal almost instantaneously.

"So what? Now you have an excuse to hurt yourself? Are you really that messed up?"

Vicky picked up the cleaver and pointed its flat top toward him. "Watch your tone, Twerp... There's nothing wrong with me mentally-"

"_Gotta disagree with you there..."_

"-I was just testing my limits. No matter how hard I swing it, it never hurts, it bleeds but never hurts."

"So?"

"So? So this is awesome! I'm near invulnerable! Nothing hurts me! I'm like a superhero..."

"Superheroes aren't evil..."

"Well then, I guess there's a first for everything, isn't there?"

"So you're gonna go out and save people from burning buildings and criminals?"

"Pfft. No! Why the hell would I do that? I only care about me, Twerp."

Timmy noticed that Vicky had apparently cleaned up the spilled blood, but not herself, she was still covered in her own blood.

"Maybe you should... take a shower or something?"

"Why?" Timmy gestured to a mirror so she could see her reflection. Her hair was matted with blood and her clothes were covered in it, likely ruined, and her eyes had an insane look to them, like some wild beast. Still pink though. "Huh. I guess you're right... I'm gonna go shower, dinner's ready, beef stew, don't wait up." She left the kitchen, returning the cleaver to its rightful spot in the knife rack.

Timmy looked at the table to see it was still covered in Vicky's blood. "Good thing I'm not squeamish..." He then began wiping it away and brought the towels to the laundry room. "I really hope this isn't going to become a regular pastime for her..."

Vicky meanwhile cleaned herself off in the shower and looked over herself for wounds again. She again found nothing, no wounds, no scars, nothing. She began giggling to herself in the shower, wondering what exactly was going on.

"Maybe I'm finally losing my mind!"

She continued scrubbing the blood from her body, the hot water doing most of the work.

Timmy in the kitchen, having finished his dinner, now stared at a knife in his hand, the blade resting in his other hand, and dragged it across his palm, the skin broke and the wound bled, but as soon as he moved the knife out of the cut, it closed, leaving just the slightest tingling sensation behind. There was no pain, during or after, and he allowed the blood to drain into the sink, then washed his hand and saw there was no wound left behind. There wasn't even the faintest outline of a scar.

"Well I guess I made the wish specifically enough."

He put his dishes and the knife into the dishwasher and went into the living room, deciding to sit around and watch TV instead of think on his eternity of torment.

A half hour later Vicky returned from her shower and walked past him into the kitchen, wearing a green tank-top and black shorts that seemed oddly familiar, yet he couldn't quite place them.

A few minutes after that she walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, slightly closer to Timmy than he would've liked.

"I'll just be going then." Timmy stood up and trudged up the stairs, ignoring Vicky's look of annoyance.

"Got a big day of chores tomorrow, Twerp. Best get some rest while you can."

"Hmph." was his only reply.

"I'm excited too! I'm glad you share my sentiment! Goodnight!"

That voice, the one that was sickeningly sweet, and undeniably fake to those who knew the 'real' Vicky. He didn't know how she could put up an act so easily, so instinctively, but it always surprised him when she did. It was too jarring to get used to.

Timmy entered his room and flopped down on the bed, he should've known this would backfire on him, his wishes always did in the end, but he was angry when he made the wish, and depressed, and a mix of several other emotions he couldn't quite place. But _her_? Of all the people to spend eternity with, _her_? And there was no going back, no unwishing this wish. The worst part was that he knew she wouldn't change, to hell with the clause in the wish, she would always despise him, love to torture him, and eventually abandon him, and he would be truly alone, no family, no friends, no godparents, no one. And the thought of being alone scared him more than the fear of death, more than any fear he had ever felt before.

And still, the tears wouldn't come.


	3. Chapter 3

Vicky sat alone on the couch now, watching some movie whose title she couldn't even remember, she was thinking hard on the new possibilities opened up before her, no more worries about getting hurt, no more pain, she could rob a bank and no one would be able to stop her!

"Unless..." Vicky got off the couch, walked over to the side of it, and attempted to pick it up, she managed to lift up one side with quite a bit of difficulty, then dropped it back down, she was tired, though only for a few minutes.

"Okay... so no super strength..."

Vicky sat back down and thought some more.

"Where did this even come from? I'm pretty sure I was normal this morning..." she then remembered she had cut her leg shaving and looked at it, there was no cut and no scar. "This is weird. I wonder if the Twerp had something to do with it... Well... no sense in asking right now, he's probably asleep..."

Vicky didn't understand why, but even though it was already eleven at night, she didn't feel sleepy, not even a little. Timmy was upstairs having the same problem, he shut his eyes and let his mind wander, but never felt tired. This continued for both of them into the next morning, and after several hours of being unable to sleep, Timmy looked at his alarm clock and turned it off, figuring if he couldn't sleep, then he didn't need it to wake him up. Venturing downstairs, he found Vicky lying on the couch, still watching the TV absentmindedly.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"No. And I could've sworn I told you last night _not_ to pretend to care about me, else I'll pretend to _not_ care when I hurt you later... Oh wait! I don't care that I hurt you."

"Guess I just pretend out of habit."

"Then I suggest you drop the habit, it's a bad one. Hope you got some sleep, here's the list." she threw it in what she assumed was his general direction and it fluttered to the floor. He walked over to the list and stooped to pick it up. There was nothing new on the list, sweep and mop floors, do laundry, mow lawn, the usual... Until he got to the bottom of the list and found a new chore that had never been there before: 'Be nice to Vicky'.

"Updated it, huh?"

"Yeah, I figured you're gonna need some help remembering that one, so I added it to the list, aren't I so thoughtful?"

"Oh sure, the best."

"I know. Get to work."

Timmy set about to doing the chores, noticing that he didn't get particularly tired while doing them, he figured a week's worth of chores would take him, well, a week, instead he was done by three in the afternoon. Luckily(?) he didn't have to go to school, the school gave him a week off to grieve.

"If only I had known that school would be the lesser evil..."

There was only one chore left, and he dreaded attempting it, all she would meet his niceness with would be insults and general meanness. Still, he had to try, despite his mind screaming 'No' over and over again. He re-entered the house to find Vicky still sprawled out on the couch, she had barely moved since he started.

"Finish your chores?"

"All but one..."

He tossed the list to her and she looked at it. "Well, best get to it then."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Hmm... let's start simple. Here's a five, go get me some pink lemonade."

"From the store?"

"Unless you know somewhere else to get pink lemonade from, yes."

Timmy left the house and started for the convenience store down the street.

"This can't get much worse..." he was met with a sudden fist to the face by Francis.

"Turner you're late again for your beating, what's up with that?"

"I've been busy attending a double funeral, now move, I have more pressing concerns..."

"No stay, let's rap about that, you talk, I'll cave in your skull."

"You couldn't even if you tried..." Timmy continued walking past Francis before his shirt collar was tugged on from behind and he was yanked back so his face met another gray skinned fist. He felt no pain, just like before. "Francis, seriously, I'm busy, bother someone else."

Francis only now noticed the lack of effect his punches were having on Timmy, though that didn't dissuade him. He began pounding his fist repeatedly into Timmy's face, trying his hardest to coax a reaction out of him. He eventually grew tired and stopped, released Timmy and began panting.

"We done here?" Francis' knuckles were bleeding from scraping against Timmy's teeth.

"Wha-What are you?!"

"Just a regular kid. With an irregular amount of bad luck..." Timmy shrugged as he spoke, his face continued to betray no emotion, for there seemed to be no emotion to betray.

Francis ran off screaming about invincible children.

"Hmph." Timmy continued his journey to the convenience store and purchased Vicky's drink of choice, then headed back.

Upon arriving back at his house he saw Vicky sitting on the couch drinking a pink lemonade.

"Hey I thought-"

Vicky pointed to a case next to the couch, full of pink lemonade, without stopping her drinking.

"Of course. I should've known..."

Vicky raised her hand and gave a thumbs up while nodding her head in the affirmative.

"Anything else you need?"

Vicky finished her drink and thought his question over. "I've got it! Come over here, sit next to me." she swung her legs off the couch and patted the now vacant spot next to her.

"I think I'd rather stand..." he frowned at her invitation.

"I wasn't asking."

Timmy, with great hesitation, walked over to the couch and sat next to Vicky, keeping as much distance from her as he could. She relaxed back into the couch and swung her legs back up and across his lap.

"What are you doing?"

"No, it's more what _aren't you_ doing, rub my legs, they feel kinda stiff."

"I'm not doing that, it's demeaning!" Timmy put on a disgusted face, though it was merely a facade. He didn't particularly mind rubbing Vicky's legs, though this was likely because some part of him still desired some... No, _any_ form of human contact.

"I'm trying to be nice here, or maybe I'm just acting, like you do, but either way, this is good practice for when you have a girlfriend, she'll likely ask you to do this at least once. And I could request _far_ more demeaning tasks than this, you would do well to remember that." She narrowed her eyes dangerously at Timmy, driving home that this was no idle threat.

"Do I really have to do this?" his voice was growing whiny, and he didn't care. He wasn't about to admit that he craved some form of closeness; Timmy was far too stubborn for that.

"Yeah, you_ really _do, let's not forget, now that I'm invincible, I may be more receptive towards the ideas of harming you, what will they do if I decide to go on a killing spree, shoot me?"

"Fine..." he began methodically rubbing her legs, trying his best to mimic the massage therapists he had seen on TV.

"Hey, not bad! Have you done this before? Maybe a few late night study sessions with Trixie?"

He blushed at her comment. "Uh... no, I haven't been in any relationships..."

"I know, just thought I'd rub salt in the wound. Most girls are smart enough not to give you the time of day. Well, except Tootie, but she isn't particularly intelligent, pining after you for so long."

"You could be nicer about it..."

"First of all, I can talk about Tootie however I want, whether she's here or not, she's my sister. And second, I couldn't care less about hurting your feelings, maybe all this tough love will make you a stronger person, that way you won't let your feelings get in the way. You'll be better off to protect your future girlfriend, or boyfriend; not judging, that way. Your significant other can send me the money for my hard work."

"I'm not gay..."

"Your wardrobe disagrees. I've never once seen you wear anything other than blue jeans, pink shirts, and pink hats."

"My parents were hoping for a girl..."

"No way! Are you serious?! That's hilarious! You were a disappointment to them before you were even born?!" Vicky was now laughing uncontrollably, occasionally kicking Timmy from her spasm.

"Yeah, it's _so_ funny."

"It really is! Not to you, but definitely to me!"

"How did you get like this?! Why are you so mean?! What the hell is wrong with you?! Is there no line you won't cross? No moral event horizon you won't swan dive off of? Did your dad beat you when you were a kid? Your mom lie to you on a daily basis? What is it?!" he didn't know where this outpouring of emotions was coming from, maybe his indifference towards the past few days' events had merely covered up his feelings, and only now were they beginning to come out.

"You want me to answer all those questions, or just the big ticket ones? If I answer all of them, we might be here awhile."

Timmy didn't answer, he just glared at her, awaiting an answer that he might not even get.

"Well let's start with any line I won't cross, I don't hit kids, or hurt kids, everyone else is fair game. I steal what I want, when I want, I blackmail whoever I can, I kill those who get in my way, and I manipulate those who I deem useful. But despite what you may think, I _do_ have morals, even the most evil person needs some morals, without them, they're just mindless beasts, and should be put down."

Was this a heart to heart conversation he was having with Vicky, of all people?

"My parents didn't hit me or lie to me, in fact, they loved me and Tootie equally, we weren't the richest family, but we got by, and my mom and dad tried their best. I harbor no ill will towards them, they are good people. A little afraid of the person I've become, but they still love me, and I love them."

"Like you could love anything, all you know is anger and hate..."

"Pfft, I'm still human, well maybe less now than I was the day before yesterday, but I'm still human, I love, I hate, I cry, I lash out, I hurt, and am hurt."

"Then why are you so mean?! Why do you torture people like me?! Make me feel worthless?! Why?!"

"Hmm... I never really thought about it... I suppose..." she leaned in so their faces were inches apart. "Sometimes being bad feels pretty damn good." she then pulled away and returned to watching TV. "That enough explanation for you, Twerp?"

"No it isn't! You expect me to believe that you just _are_ mean and hateful? No reason behind it other than it feels good to be bad? I don't buy it, you're lying!"

"Well you'd best start believing me, Twerp. I've never spoke more truthfully in my life, you're lucky I even told you about my life, the real thing you should wonder is why I'd want to share anything with you. I don't even know why I told you."

"But what about the comments about the foster homes? How do you know so much about them? How bad they can be?"

"I'm twenty one, Twerp. I spend a lot of time learning about things, overhearing things, and investigating things. I know. So I'll tell you again, you can think I'm horrible all you want, but I'm the best you could hope for. And you'd better start appreciating me, your life is in my hands, I have free reign to make your life as pleasant or miserable as I want, and so far, I'm leaning towards misery."

"I've been trying to be nice..."

"No you haven't. It's an act, you admitted it yourself, so don't give me that bullshit."

"I went to get your lemonade!"

"Great, that's one thing, anything else?"

"I'm massaging your legs, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you're also bitching at me nonstop about what a horrible person I am, I enjoyed the leg rub, but your complaining about me being the worst person ever? I could do without that."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"You're not exactly helping yourself out here..."

"What does it even matter? You could just change your attitude on a whim and make me miserable because you feel like it!"

"I could. But where's the harm in being nice to me?"

"It would harm my dignity to appease my nemesis."

"Whoa there killer, I'm mean, but your _nemesis_? I think you're being dramatic there."

"I don't, not at all."

"You're really trying my patience, Twerp. I just might have to temporarily forget my rule to not harm kids..."

"I wouldn't bother, it won't work..." he figured that it didn't matter if she found out anyway. Nothing seemed to matter these days.

"Why is that?"

"You know how you have been unable to get hurt lately? It just heals up?"

"Yeah..."

"Well I cut my hand last night while putting away the dishes, it healed up nearly instantly..."

"So whatever happened to me, happened to you too?"

"Seems that way..."

"Huh. Guess I can't threaten you anymore..."

"Well you could, it just wouldn't matter."

"Taking care of you just got less fun."

"Sorry to disappoint you..."

"Just go away."

"You want your lemonade and change?"

"No. Consider it payment for the massage." she almost looked depressed, was she _that_ sad that her threats would no longer have any effect on him?

Timmy returned to his room to find Cosmo and Wanda floating in their fairy forms.

"Guys? What's up?"

"Timmy... Jorgen just sent us a message... we've been... reassigned to another child..."

"What?! Why?!"

"The wish you made was apparently incredibly selfish, and you're immortal now, it doesn't matter how miserable you get, immortals don't keep fairy godparents..."

"You didn't tell me..."

"I didn't know..."

"So that's it then? This is goodbye?"

"I'm... afraid so, Sport..."

"Will I ever see you guys again?"

Wanda knew the answer, but felt it would be better not to tell him the truth, he'd already dealt with enough grief...

"Sure. I'm sure we will!" she was doing her best to hold back tears but could feel the prickling at her eyes.

"Here Timmy! I want you to have Phillip! Take good care of him!" Cosmo handed a shiny quarter to Timmy.

"Thanks Cosmo..."

"Timmy..."

"Wanda?"

"I know it's hard, but Vicky will be the last person in your life one day. You need to make up with her. She's eventually going to realize something is up when everyone around her starts... dying, and she stays the same."

"And?"

"And you're going to have to help her through it, and she, you."

"That isn't going to happen, she's impossible! I'm trying, I really am, but she always rebuffs me and is heartless. How can I get close to her?!"

"You'll figure it out Timmy, you have to. And you're smart, I have faith in you."

"Hmph. You make it sound so easy, she's the most caustic and abrasive person I've ever met..."

"Well it may have been unintentional, but you cursed her when you cursed yourself. I won't tell you it'll be easy, it won't, it'll be hard. But you don't want to go through eternity alone, your mind will not survive the ordeal."

"Why isn't Jorgen here to take you away, exactly?"

"He mentioned something about poker night with someone named Grim... there were others, but that name stands out... Besides, this way, he isn't here to erase our memories, we won't forget you, and you won't forget us!"

"Seems more like a curse to me. I have all of eternity to remember that I had fairy godparents and never will again..."

"That's a depressing way to look at things..."

"I'm a realist."

"You sound like a pessimist."

"Can you blame me?"

"I suppose not."

"Don't suppose there's anything you guys can do that'll help me...?"

"I've got something that might help..." Wanda poofed a gift wrapped box into existence. "Give her this on her birthday. It'll work, trust me."

"I don't know her birthday..."

"It's the same as your birthday."

"No shit..." Timmy looked the gift box over in his hands.

"Language..."

"I'm entitled after the week I've had."

"You still shouldn't..."

"I think we've put this off long enough, Wanda..."

Cosmo, Wanda and Timmy embraced then, knowing it may be awhile before it happened again... If it ever _did_ happen again.

"We love you Timmy."

"I love you guys too... I'll see you around."

And with that they poofed away, they were gone, and Timmy was left in his room holding a gift box intended for his nemesis.

He expected it now, any second his shell would break, and the emotions would pour out, the tears would fall and he would break down and cry his eyes out.

But the tears didn't come.


	4. Chapter 4

Vicky sat alone on the couch in the living room, contemplating what the Twerp had said. Was she bullshitting? _Did_ she have some reason for being mean?

"_Hmm... Nope! I just like being bad!" _her poor attempt to convince herself wasn't effective. What he said bothered her, never before when her mannerisms were brought up did it bother her, but when _he_ did it, every now and then, it... she found it perturbed her, if only slightly. It brought some feeling to the surface that she couldn't quite place.

"Grr... I'm gonna lose my image thinking like this! Looking weak... And now... he's got the same condition as me." Vicky felt a heavy weight on her mind. Something about her apparent invulnerability evoked an odd feeling of... depression? Or was she just... feeling bad for what she had said to Timmy?

She began to wonder if she really _had _been too hard on him. "He just lost his parents, and he lives with _me_... I haven't exactly made his life easy..." She didn't usually think of herself as evil, but reflecting on how she treated him, and what she said about his parents, the word fit her rather well.

"Maybe I should..." _"Apologize?" _"No brain, that idea is stupid, you're stupid. I don't apologize, ever."

She was lost in her thoughts and didn't notice Timmy return downstairs, not even when he stood before her and spoke.

"Vicky? We need to talk..."

He looked sad, there was clearly something he wanted to get off his chest. "Hm? What? What do you want?"

"Can I sit?"

"You didn't want to earlier..."

"Well now I do, I need to tell you this."

Vicky moved her legs off the couch, allowed Timmy to sit, then returned them to their position on his lap. "Speak."

"I really shouldn't tell you this, but I don't think it matters anymore, I don't think anything does now. I had, up until a few minutes ago, fairy godparents, granted to me because of how miserable I was in your care and with my parents being gone all the time."

"Wow. Someone thought you were miserable besides you."

"They granted nearly any wish I asked, and many of them were wishes I made to get back at you for what you did to me growing up."

"If this is true, all this magic crap you're talking about, and all those things that happened to me were your doing, then I hope you have something good to say to me after you're done, or at least a very, _very_ sincere apology, or you will envy the dead."

Ignoring her threats, Timmy continued. "Well, yesterday, after the funeral, I wished that I would never die, I was terrified of death after my parents... you know. And I made the wish in fear, not concerning myself with the consequences..."

"And?"

"The wish is very binding. Clauses upon clauses, no loopholes, and more of a curse than a blessing. And it affects you, as well, I don't know why..." he wasn't about to tell Vicky the reason that the wish involved her. "That's why you and I can't be hurt. We're both immortals now, according to Wanda."

"Wanda?"

"My fairy godmother."

"Of course." Vicky thought for a few minutes, then realization dawned on her. "So you cursed me? Just like that?"

"Yep."

"So I... the reason I can't be hurt... That was you?"

Timmy nodded in confirmation.

"And I'm... Immortal? No dying ever?"

"Seems that way."

"What about what I want? Why would you-"

"I didn't know it would affect you, I made the wish without thinking, I said that already."

Vicky could feel the anger surging through her. "So I'm forced to live forever? Never dying-"

"Or aging."

"But watching everyone I care about die? While I stay the same?"

"It'll be the same for me..."

"I don't give a shit about you! This is _my_ life! Why should you get to toy with it?!"

Timmy narrowed his eyes at her. He had come down to try to explain things with a level head, get her to understand that he didn't know she'd be involved. He was _trying_ to care, and she was yelling at him again?! "You mean like you toyed with mine for the past seven years?!"

"That doesn't even compare to this! I would never do something like this to you!"

"Well maybe it will teach you some humility, and make you a better person..." venom laced his words now.

Vicky lurched forward and grabbed Timmy's shirt collar. "You little fucking shit! Who are _you_ to talk to _me_ about humility?! I hope to whatever god, or deity, or... or..." Vicky clenched her teeth and blinked back the prickling sensation in her eyes. "This better just be a fucked up joke!"

"It isn't." Timmy frowned and looked at her apologetically. He glanced down at her hand as it still held his shirt and moved his own hand up to rest it on hers.

Vicky took immediate notice of this and shoved him away. "Just go."

"...Alright." he began to ascend the stairs when he felt a pang of guilt in his heart. "I know you don't care what I have to say, but... I am sorry, Vicky, I never meant for you to get caught up in this."

"Go." she wouldn't even meet his gaze.

Timmy made his way to his room and shut the door, he wondered why exactly Vicky hadn't questioned him on the ridiculousness of what he told her, most people would question his sanity upon his mentioning of fairies and magic, but Vicky wasn't most people, and it was a _way_ to rationalize why they were both healing so fast. He didn't expect her to bring it up again, she would likely be too busy being angry over the fact that Timmy had doomed the both of them. That was good, the less he had to think about losing Cosmo and Wanda, the better.

_Downstairs..._

Vicky waited until Timmy's bedroom door shut before she allowed her tears to fall. She wouldn't cry in front of anyone, she thought her tears had abandoned her long ago, yet now she was crying her eyes out on the Turner's couch, her knees pulled up to her chest. She had accepted that one day she would die, everyone did eventually, but she was ready, at least she thought she was. Now she was afraid, she wouldn't join her family in death, she would exist, forever... She would be alone, truly alone one day, no one to love, no one to love her... _"Except him... He's like me now..." _"I have to spend eternity... with him?!"

Vicky stood and kicked with all her might, smashing the TV screen, and leaving hunks of glass stuck in her leg.

"That... may have been a tad extreme..." Vicky picked up the TV and lugged it outside, throwing it into the trashcan. As she did so, the pieces of glass forced their way out of her leg, falling away and clinking on the ground.

She re-entered the house to find Timmy standing in front of the couch, looking at the space the TV once occupied.

"You okay?"

"No. Far from it. But I'd say the TV is in worse shape physically than I am." there were streaks of blood on her leg, but again, no wounds. "Why are you down here?"

"I heard the crash and was worried..."

"Worried for someone who can't be hurt? Tell me another one. Are you ever gonna stop pretending to care? I know you hate me, you might as well act how you feel."

"I don't..."

"Don't. Bullshit. Me."

"Fine. The truth then. You want the truth, right?"

"Am I speaking a language that you don't understand?"

"I dislike you, Vicky. Immensely. You're horrible, you're rude, and you manipulate everyone you can. You fooled my parents and nearly every authority figure you've come across. And you've always given me the worst of everything."

"You're batting a thousand now..."

"...But I don't hate you."

"What?"

"Everyone else in my family is gone, I have my friends, but you're the last, closest thing I have to family, and we're both stuck with each other, you said it yourself, and now I'm saying it, so as bad as you are... I don't hate you..." he squinted and looked at her more closely. "Hey... have you been crying?" he could see the tear stains on her face.

"...No."

"Now who's bullshitting?"

"I can't threaten you, so I'll ask you instead. Please, go away." she could feel the shell she put up breaking, she never said please.

"Whatever. Just push away the one person who wants to help you right now. How mature." he again ascended the stairs and entered his room, shutting the door.

"Hmph." Vicky took several deep breaths and sat down on the couch, she grabbed the remote and pointed it at the blank space where the TV had sat a few minutes before. "Shit." Vicky stood up and ascended the stairs, entering Timmy's parents' room. A quick look around the room was all it took for Vicky to decide that this was where she'd be sleeping from now on. The bed was likely _far_ more comfortable than the couch.

Unfortunately, her glance around the room revealed that there was no TV in it either. "Damn. Guess I'll have to go get a new one." She began getting dressed, throwing on her green t-shirt and black jeans. "Twerp!"

She heard his door open and the sound of him heading downstairs.

"I'm up here idiot!"

She heard him return upstairs, stop at the door, and knock.

"Ugh... Come in..."

"You called?"

"I'm going to the store to buy a new TV."

"Okay..."

"Just thought I'd tell you."

Timmy stared at Vicky.

Vicky stared at Timmy.

"GO!"

Timmy scurried out of the room and back into his, slamming the door shut.

Vicky left the room, grabbing her phone and keys in the process, then made her way out of the house and into her car. She put the car in reverse and sped out of the driveway, nearly hitting a passing Francis in the process.

"Hey. Watch it! You nearly hit me-"

Vicky glared at Francis and he felt his blood freeze. He was suddenly pale as a ghost. Rather than stand around and wait for his eventual death, Francis turned around and headed home, walking much faster than usual.

She then drove off toward Wall 2 Wall mart, ignoring the speed limit signs.

_Meanwhile, back at the other half of the plot..._

Timmy sat in his room on his bed, it felt far too quiet in the room now, too lonely.

"Yet even now, with so much of what defined my life being gone, I feel nothing. I'm seriously messed up..."

He looked over at the gift sitting on his end table.

"Wonder what it is..."

He looked at the empty fishbowl in his room and the memories played back in his head, the good times and the bad, he was reminded of the times he used their magic to get back at Vicky, and felt guilty for it.

"_Now_ my conscience wants to kick in?"

That was probably why he didn't hate her, he felt guilty for what he did, and only now did it affect him.

"I'm an idiot." _"I'm gonna have to figure out how to make this work."_

He had no idea if Wanda's plan would work, his birthday would be in a few days, and apparently Vicky's as well, the gift sitting on his end table was apparently the key to his future, hopefully she would accept it, and realize he wasn't acting, he really was trying to befriend her, no matter how much she said he was bullshitting her.

And what did she expect? You don't go befriending your nemesis over night. Any sane person who was in Vicky's position would expect it to be a trick, just another way to get back at her for all she had done, especially now that she knew he had fairies. _"If she even believed me when I said that..."_ It would be a slow process, and it just might cause him to lose his mind.

So in that respect, it made sense. She was now most certainly going through a tough time with the news of being immortal. He expected her to get mad, to yell at him, threaten him, call him names... Yet all he had done was throw it back in her face like... like a child...

He began a different tactic, one to try and find the good in his babysitter, and by extension, their shared situation. Five years had been kind to Vicky, at twenty one, she was stunning, he could admit that... to himself anyway. She had curves now, more than the ones she had at sixteen, and her hair was beautiful, he didn't know when he started feeling this way about her, though it was back when she still babysat him, he knew that. It was likely right around the time he hit puberty when the feelings came to light. He never mentioned them, not to anyone, _she'd _just make fun of him, his friends would think he was crazy, his parents would fire her, and he didn't want her to stop coming around, that is, if they even believed what he said, he didn't even tell Cosmo and Wanda, being that he was too embarrassed to.

He heard the front door open and someone come in. "Twerp!" Well now he knew who it was, though he had a feeling he knew who it was anyway. He got up and headed downstairs.

"Yeah?"

"Help me with the TV."

They walked outside and Timmy gaped at the box tied to the top of Vicky's car, it was huge, judging by the size, it would just barely clear the front door frame.

"How much did this run you?"

"Do you have any idea how much a TV this big costs?"

"Uh... two thousand?"

"Try three, I stole it."

"I... don't know why I'm surprised..."

"Just help me bring it in."

With no small amount of effort, they brought the TV into the living room and unboxed it.

"Want me to help set it up?"

"No, just put help me get it on the entertainment center and go."

After the TV was safely on the entertainment center, Timmy returned to his room.

"Hmph. I can't tell what his angle is anymore... But there's no way he cares... It has to be a trick, it _has_ to be." Vicky reclined on the couch and flipped her new TV on.

The next few days passed uneventfully, no fights, no yelling. Timmy had tried on multiple occasions to strike up friendly conversation, which was relatively fruitless. On good days, she'd simply ignore him or give one word answers. On bad days... It was like all his work toward bonding with the girl was thrown out the window. She'd yell at him again, threaten him(pointless as it was), or leave the house for hours at a time.

Finally it was March twenty first, Timmy's birthday, as well as Vicky's. Neither of them had gotten any sleep, they didn't feel tired yet, even after a week without sleep. Timmy went down to the living room to find Vicky with a party horn in her mouth, she blew into it when he reached the bottom of the stairs, then spat it out of her mouth onto the floor.

"Happy Birthday me..." she looked at Timmy. "...and you."

"Thanks... where did you find that?"

"One of the drawers in the kitchen, next to the sink."

"Ah." he held the gift box behind his back, trying to work up the nerve to hand it to her. He almost chickened out, almost left and didn't give her the gift, but after a few precious seconds: "Here." he handed it to her, expecting her to slap it out of his hand. But she never did. He looked at her face, still stained with tears. _"Guess she's been crying again..."_ It was blank, likely with disbelief at this gesture. After several agonizing seconds she took the box and just looked at it. "Happy Birthday, Vicky."

There was no cake, no party, nothing. Vicky stayed on the couch the entire day, staring at the present in her hands, occasionally turning it over. He received calls from his friends, wishing him a happy birthday, even Tootie called to wish him a happy birthday, though she also took the opportunity to proclaim her undying love for him. He tried giving Vicky the phone so Tootie could wish her a happy birthday as well, but after a full minute of what might as well have been catatonia, he took the phone back and told Tootie he'd wish her sister a happy birthday in her stead.

The next day, he found Vicky hadn't moved, still sitting on the couch, still staring at the box.

"Vicky?"

No response.

"Well I need to go to school... bye."

School played out similarly to how he had felt recently. He couldn't bring himself to care much about it. Chester and AJ asked him if he was alright, and he told them he was fine, though he wasn't able to bring himself to put up a facade. Tootie tried too; opting to sit next to him even more often than before. He didn't push her away, not anymore. Indifference was the best he could offer, being unable to distance himself from her and the others. Francis now avoided him like the plague, fearing the boy he could no longer intimidate, no longer even harm. And even the popular kids were no longer on his mind: Trixie, Veronica, Remy, Tad and Chad... Memories no longer worth remembering. Much as he hated to admit it, the only one who still mattered now was Vicky, even if she hated him.

When Timmy returned from school later that day, she still hadn't moved, and he went to bed after a few hours, though sleep continued to elude him.

The next day she was still there, though the box was unwrapped, it was just a small, black, velvet box.

"_If Wanda somehow tricked me into marrying Vicky, I'm gonna find her and kick her..."_

That day had played out in much the same way. He went to school, but found he couldn't really focus. He wouldn't admit it, but he was beginning to worry about his... _companion_. She hadn't eaten, slept, drank anything, or so much as moved from the couch. Likely not something too concerning for an immortal, but that didn't stop him from worrying.

On the fourth day he found her in the living room, in the same place, but the box was open. He walked around the couch to get a look at what it was. In the box was a pink gemstone, cut into a teardrop shape, attached to a silver chain. He noted it was the same color as her eyes.

"_What is it, magic? She's just been sitting there for four days straight..."_

"Vicky? You... all right?"

He thought he wouldn't get a response once again, but she nodded slightly without looking at him. The nod on it's own surprised him, so he opted not to coax anything more out of her that day and turned in early again.

The next day Timmy awoke and headed downstairs to find that Vicky was no longer on the couch, she was in the kitchen eating breakfast. She wasn't wearing the pendant, but at least she wasn't comatose anymore. The tear stains were gone and she looked like she had showered this morning. He sat down at the table across from her and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

"Thanks."

"What?" he looked up from his breakfast at her, though her gaze remained on her own food.

"For the gift, I wanted to say thanks." she looked up at him.

"Oh... no problem."

Things improved for them after that day, they didn't avoid each other as much, and occasionally even had normal conversations. While Timmy tried his best to befriend Vicky, she was still abrasive at times, and she would still call him Twerp, but sometimes, especially if she had a few 'drinks', she would speak to him like they were old friends, like the years of animosity between them never happened. She usually forgot these conversations by morning, however. They fell into a routine of sorts, still doing what was expected of them by an ever changing society: School, work, the usual.

After five years, they stopped keeping track of their birthdays, both were becoming reclusive and closed off to their friends and families. Though the bridges were not yet burned, and when they visited, they kept up the charade that everything was fine. They mostly spoke to each other, no one else would matter eventually.

The days turned to weeks, the weeks to months, and then years. His friends aged and he stayed the same, her family aged and she didn't, they didn't seem to notice the lack of change in them, but they would soon, it had been ten years since the wish now, ten years to the day.

Then, on the tenth March twenty-first, there was a change, he noticed she wore the pendant, he commented on it and she waved it off, saying she could wear what she wanted. Still, it brought a spark of hope to his heart, maybe they would be okay.

Occasionally Timmy's friends would stop by and ask him if he was okay, he told them he was, but never betrayed any emotion, never happy, sad, angry, nothing, and eventually they would leave. The first few times, she questioned his actions, he told her it was better this way.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to see what he was doing, and Vicky prided herself on being smarter than most of the population of Dimmsdale. She considered doing the same with her own family: growing cold, distant... All in an effort to shield herself from the pain that would come when they died... But... she wasn't able to, not in the same way he was. His family was all gone, and his friends were beginning to grow suspicious of his unchanging appearance, though they never said it loud enough for him to hear...

She wouldn't tell him she was worried about him, concerned over how cold he'd become... Her own foolish stubbornness...

Vicky's family visited too, her parents to see her, Tootie to see both of them. She was blossoming into a beautiful young woman, no more glasses, no more braces, and no acne. They spent time together, and invited Timmy to be with them too, he generally kept to himself, but would sit with them now and then. It was like having a family again, but was always fleeting, they weren't a family, he had none left. Except _her_, and he wasn't sure they could ever be a family. After they left he told her it would only be more painful when she had to let them go. She told him she knew, said it was better to feel the pain of loss, that life was about more than just existing, you had to take the good as well as the bad.

When they were alone, they would sometimes sit next to each other on the couch, maybe eat dinner together, sometimes clean the house together. But never anything more, whenever he tried to get closer to her, she pushed him away and gave him a look, not one of malice, more one that said 'Not yet'. So he waited, by now she knew he liked her, with all the time they spent together. And they weren't exactly getting any older, so he could wait. He realized one night, after dinner while lying in bed, waiting for sleep that, while fleeting, did sometimes come, that he had grown to love this girl, his so-called nemesis. "Just like Wanda said would happen."

She felt the same, at least she thought she did, but tried her best to deny the emotions. He had cursed them both, why would she love someone who did that? And something felt wrong about it, loving the kid you babysat for so many years? And then were appointed legal guardian of? People would think she was sick, not that it would matter, everyone she knew would be dead within the next century. Thoughts of her loved ones dying always brought tears with them, living forever like this, could it even be called living? Was she really so horrible that she deserved this? Eventually the tears stopped and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was twenty years after the wish that grief visited Timmy again. Chester's father had taken up cooking meth in his trailer to make ends meet, unfortunately, he wasn't very careful and the trailer exploded one night, taking Chester and his father with it.

They went to the funeral, and heard what the onlookers said. Noting that neither of them seemed to age, that something was _wrong_ with them. They didn't stay long, didn't want to draw attention, so Timmy payed his respects and quickly left with Vicky. He made sure that Tootie and AJ didn't see them leave, the two of them were growing very close, and he'd only complicate things now...

"You okay, Timmy?" she asked during the ride home.

"I'm fine." he didn't remember when she stopped calling him Twerp, but it felt... odd. Like a double-edged sword. He was happy to lose the nickname... but losing it felt like losing a part of himself somehow.

He felt nothing for Chester though. True, it was an unfortunate accident, but the two had grown apart over the years, Chester becoming more and more freaked out by Timmy's apparent inability to age. Timmy told him that he was imagining it at first, but with Chester being in his mid thirties and Timmy being fifteen still, that didn't work forever. He remembered the last conversation the two had before the accident.

"Dude, I don't know what's going on with you but it freaks me out, and I'm not even high right now." the worry was evident in Chester's voice. There was something definitely _wrong_ with his best friend.

"Nothing is going on. You're just imagining it, maybe you're overworked or-" his voice was monotone; dead. He had once told Wanda that he could handle the heartache of losing everyone around him... But he wasn't sure how true that was now, so he instead copied how Vicky had been before he cursed them. He put up a wall around his heart, one that wouldn't let anyone, or anything in. If he kept everyone; and the feelings associated with them, at arms' length, then he wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt.

"I'm not overworked and I'm not imagining it!" Chester took a photo out of his wallet and showed it to Timmy. It was taken a few days before Timmy's parents died, back when they were still friends, when Timmy could still feel. There he was in between AJ and Tootie, it was like looking at a mirror, he looked exactly the same then as he did now, though the smile in the picture was not reflected in his current face.

Timmy looked at Chester, he was gaunt, had unkempt hair, and permanent stubble.

"Chester, I don't know what to say..."

"Me neither." he walked out of his Timmy's house, it would be the last time they talked.

Elmer came next, though whether Timmy really was friends with him was open to debate, they barely spoke, even before Timmy's parents died. He got into a bar fight the year after Chester died, with Francis of all people. Francis delivered a sucker punch to the boil on Elmer's face, causing it to burst, the hole left over was so big that it caused most of Elmer's skull to fall out through the hole, he didn't live long after that, a minute, tops. When Timmy read the article he had to suppress a laugh, morbid as it was to laugh at someone's death, the way he played out the event in his mind was hilarious to him, and Vicky agreed. Francis died the next day, he panicked when he killed Elmer and stole a car, leading police on a six hour chase around the city and surrounding countryside, before stopping at his house to surrender. The police were apparently just a little overzealous, and peppered him with gunfire, when they finally stopped after ten minutes of constant shooting, there was only a grayish red stain on Francis' front lawn. Timmy, unsurprisingly, didn't care when he heard of Francis' death.

-0o0o0-

_2058..._

"_Hard to believe it's been... what? Half a century since I made that wish?"_ Timmy thought as he looked at the calender.

"March Twenty-First. Happy Birthday to me." he looked at the empty space on the couch. "And you..." Vicky had left ten years ago now, she hadn't said a word about leaving; hell, she didn't even leave him a note. He woke up one day, and she was just... gone. He suspected it was her way of dealing with their shared curse, it wasn't smart to bear it alone, but she wasn't weak, the years had made her strong, just as they made him strong. He had figured that she would be back in a few days after she left though, the days became weeks, then months, then years, and she never came back. When it hit him that she wasn't coming back, he almost cried. Almost. But he stopped himself and rammed his head into the door-frame between the kitchen and the living room. He realized that, while he was sad that she was gone, he was angry that she left without a word. He loved her; though he hadn't been able to admit it, and she left without a word, like the forty or so years between them hadn't mattered at all.

After cleaning the blood away from the already healed gash in his forehead, he took a few deep breaths and put his emotional walls back up. It had felt oddly satisfying to get angry after so many years of being numb, but getting angry wouldn't bring Vicky back, nor would getting sad and crying his eyes out(not that he could anyway).

"I'm sixty six today..." he looked at the couch. "You're... seventy one..." one of the couch's legs broke in response, even if it hadn't been the couch he was talking to.

He had begun taking various odd jobs around Dimmsdale to pay for the house and other necessities, his ID proved he was old enough to work, so no one questioned why he looked fifteen. Most of the jobs were those that no one in their right mind would take, too dangerous, but immortality brought with it a lack of fear towards jobs like that. In doing the jobs, he was never wanting for anything, the dangerous jobs tended to pay very well, he once even fell off a building under construction, fell twenty-nine floors down onto the pavement. He laid there for several minutes, then got up and returned to work, his co-workers asked how he was alright.

"Must have nine lives or something!" he laughed off their concern and returned to his job.

The house had fallen into a sorry state without two people to work on it, he simply didn't care too much about how it looked, it served its purpose, that was enough for him.

The future brought with it all the marvels that people said were only in science fiction authors' dreams: Flying cars, jetpacks, teleporters, cures for major diseases, everything you might imagine in your dreams of the future. For a time, he felt glad to be part of the human race, an ever expanding species that seemed destined to conquer all its problems and make a true utopia. So it was so sad when he realized that humans will always be humans, they create and build for a time, but destruction always follows, the cycle is inevitable. Wars broke out over the sudden leap forward in sciences, someone from some nation saying the other was 'playing God' all while they pursued the same goals. He wisely chose to ignore politics, they just complicated things. He watched from afar as the UN disbanded and then reformed, as countries took over and absorbed their neighbors, as humanity revisited their past mistake, where they had once split the atom and acquired the power that no one should ever possess, they had now learned nuclear fusion, and could destroy everything, the very planet was now in jeopardy. It surprised him when the end of existence on Earth never came, it was agreed that a nuclear fusion device would never be detonated on Earth, only in space, only in the defense of Earth, and only as a last resort. He wondered how long _that_ would last.

Vicky's parents died in the summer of 2058, her mother, then her father a few days later. He went to the funeral, sat with Tootie, gave her his condolences. She sat with her husband, AJ. Timmy had never even heard about the wedding.

"Shows how out of touch you are." he scolded himself, despite the fact that remaining out of touch was better, he always did his best to shield himself from the pain of loss, lest it drive him over the edge.

Maybe he was truly out of touch, but he wanted to come to the funeral, they had invited him to come be a family on many occasions, it seemed right to attend the funeral. He owed them that much.

AJ may not have been happy he was there, but Tootie was, she didn't judge him for how he looked, even as she sat next to him, wearing glasses again, her hair graying, her face beginning to have wrinkles on it. He saw that even after so many years, she loved him, not AJ, and the pang of guilt he hadn't felt in a few decades was back, strong as ever.

"Have... have you seen Vicky, Timmy?"

"No. Not since she left ten years ago... Have you?"

"No. She doesn't call, or write, or... anything..." he wasn't surprised, not really, dealing with this curse might have been more than she could handle. "She visited us you know... The day she left, she said goodbye. God, the finality of her voice when she spoke that word..."

"Did she seem... okay?"

"She was distant. Y'know, she never aged, just like you... Maybe the two of you are bound together by fate..."

"Hmph, she'd probably kill us both if she heard that..." he was smiling now, it had been years since he felt he could genuinely smile.

"Probably."

They talked for a few more minutes, then AJ and Tootie left, AJ's face still had an untrusting look about it, he clearly didn't consider himself Timmy's friend anymore.

He stayed and stared at the headstone for a while longer, feeling a wave of nostalgia that brought memories of the last time he was in this situation, though it didn't rain today, the sky was overcast, but no rain fell.

He stooped and placed his hand on the grave, not noticing the other presence in the cemetery with him. A bouquet of assorted flowers flew by his head to rest on the headstone, it surprised him and he looked back, wondering who threw the bouquet. His thoughts were answered by a retreating figure, dressed all in black, with brilliant red hair poking out from under the figure's hat.

"Vicky?" the figure's pace quickened.

"Vicky! Wait!" the figure broke into a fast run, and Timmy began running after it.

"I know it's you! Stop, please!" the figure had now broken into a full sprint. _"How can she run so fast in a dress?!"_

"Dammit, stop!"

The figure ran behind a rather large tree but didn't come out from the other side.

"Vicky I know you're behind the tree. Just come out, I want to talk... I miss you..."

No response. He walked around the tree and found no one there. "What the?" he made two more circles around the tree, and still, he found nothing. _"Maybe I really am losing it, like Wanda said I would..."_

He turned to leave and began making his way out of the cemetery, back to his house. He looked back one more time, hoping he'd see Vicky, but there was no one there.

_In said large tree..._

Vicky sat in a cradle of branches, trying to catch her breath and wiping her eyes.

"Should've... known... _he'd_ be here..."

She felt the tears continue to fall.

"Dammit! Why am I crying?!"_ "Probably because you just attended your parents funeral..."_

"You shut up, logical side of my brain!" _"And because you wanted to spin around and throw yourself into his arms, so you'd have someone to comfort you..."_

"I don't need comforting, especially not from him..." _"But he needs you..."_ She knew it to be true, the tone in his voice when he said he missed her... it was so obvious...

The sky responded to what she said by opening up and releasing a massive downpour of rain, she was drenched instantly.

"Fuck."


	5. Chapter 5

_2078..._

Another twenty years had come and gone, he hadn't seen Vicky since the cemetery. Matter of fact, no one had. Most people no longer even knew who she was, and the ones that did were either old timers that she had once babysat so long ago, and the children(or grandchildren) of these people. She had apparently passed into urban legend status, mentioning her name caused a shiver in their spines, or the room they were in to go quiet. Her story was the one parents told their kids when they misbehaved, to scare them back into line.

"People think she's like Slenderman or something..." He was going to Dimmsdale General Hospital today, Tootie was dying, and even though he promised himself he'd keep her and everyone else at arms' length, he made an exception this time, he wanted to be there for her, someone to comfort her as she journeyed into the dark. AJ died the year before, apparently he had become rather fat like his father in his old age and suffered a severe heart attack.

"Too many cheeseburgers..."

He didn't go to the funeral, Tootie would have wanted him to, he knew that, it was her husband and AJ was his friend... Or so she said, but that bridge had been burned long ago, though he wasn't sure _when_ exactly, they hadn't even spoken to each other since Tootie's parents died. He stopped by the grave though, he did it for everyone he lost, even his parents, and paid his respects. He partially hoped Vicky would be there, that he hadn't imagined her all those years ago... But she never was.

"Thirty years..." it had been thirty years now. She left and never came back, it didn't bother him overmuch at first, but eventually he began to feel the loneliness crush him, ever so slowly... every year she was gone felt like a needle in his heart.

He got in his car he had bought, an older model 'muscle car' they were called. At least back then, now it was called an 'antique' or a 'hunk of junk', likely because it still had wheels, nearly everyone everywhere had the latest flying car, but he stuck to the ground, partially because he liked the feeling of the earth staying beneath his feet, and partially because he was deathly afraid of heights. Some cities still took care of the old roads, most didn't. Thankfully, Dimmsdale still did. He drove to the hospital and parked his car in a handicapped spot(an old habit left over from his time with Vicky), then got out and entered the building, riding the elevator to floor seventy-two. Buildings were far too big these days, some skyscrapers were now more like ozone scrapers...

"Least the elevator works, I'd hate to have to take the stairs."

He walked over to the reception desk and spoke to the receptionist, a pretty red head, likely eighteen or nineteen, she had one blue eye and one green, there was a scar starting at her upper cheek, going up past her green eye and onto her forehead, the rest of it being covered by her hair. He almost thought she might have heterochromia, but when the green eye focused on him and its pupil dilated unnaturally, he knew better. The green eye was a cybernetic implant, they had become popular and widespread over the past five years. Any body part that was missing could be restored now, limbs, organs, anything. Why it was green and not blue... likely personal preference.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Yeah I'm looking for Tootie..." he stopped, he had no idea what her last name was, he never asked, he was sure her parents' grave had it engraved on it, but the memory was a blur. "I... don't know her last name..."

"Let me see... Ah! Yes. Luckily she's the only Tootie in the hospital. Room seven-two, one-four."

"Thank you, do you know how she is?"

"Are you family or...?"

"Family friend, most of her family is gone, I haven't even heard about where her kids are..."

"Well, unfortunately, she isn't doing so good, from what I've heard, she probably doesn't have more than a day or two left, I hate to have to tell you this, she has always been such a sweet old woman..."

"We all have to go sometime, right?"

"I suppose so, you're very mature for your age."

"I get that a lot." Timmy smiled sadly.

"I'll lead you to her room, follow me."

Timmy followed her down the hall, passing by room after room, all of them closed, until they reached the door: 7214.

"I'll let her know you're here..." the receptionist entered the room and returned after a minute.

"You can go ahead in."

"Thanks." he entered the room and looked over to Tootie, the years had been relatively kind, she was clearly old, wrinkled face, white hair... but he could tell it was her at a glance.

"Long time no see, huh?"

"Timmy! It's good to see you, the doctor's tell me I... don't have long..."

"Yeah... I'm sorry about AJ, sorry I wasn't there for you..."

"Oh, don't worry about that, it's in the past, let it stay there."

"But..."

"No buts! Don't be so sad and full of regret! I've lived a long life, and for the most part, I've been happy."

"You still haven't heard from Vicky?"

"...No... my very own sister hasn't kept in touch, strange considering we were always so close..."

"Me neither, and she was supposed to be my legal guardian..."

"You don't think she passed away do you? Somewhere so far from home?"

"No, I'm sure she's fine, your sister is tough, tougher than me... Maybe tougher than all of us."

"I can't argue with you there!" Tootie began laughing and Timmy joined in, though their laughter was cut short by a sudden coughing fit from Tootie.

"You okay?"

Tootie took some deep breaths, then drank some water.

"I'm fine... Far as science has come, some things just aren't meant to be cured, I guess..."

"Heh, I guess we were just born in the wrong time... if we had been born later, maybe medicine could have come farther, maybe you'd-" he felt the slightest prickle at the corner of his eyes.

"That's enough! I told you, I've lived a nice, long life. I've made my peace, I have no regrets."

"No regrets? _Really_?"

Tootie rolled her eyes at this. "Fine, _some_ regrets, but who doesn't?"

"I suppose so..." Timmy glanced toward the door as a siren went off, indicating a code blue. "You're my last friend Tootie, once you're gone, I've got no one..."

"Well, if you ever see Vicky again, maybe you can try being her friend? She hasn't aged it seems, just like you. You may think she hates you, but I know she doesn't. If you see her again, promise me you'll give her a chance?"

"O-of course! I promise!" Even now, he was too stubborn to admit that he liked her, that he missed her, to anyone but himself.

"Good! Now stop being so depressing and lets be merry! We can spend the rest of the day like it was old times. Laughing and joking and playing games!"

"I'd like that..."

So they did, and Timmy was reminded of how things used to be, before his parents died, before life became so meaningless. He was, for the first time in nearly three quarters of a century, genuinely happy. They talked and laughed about their childhoods and families until it was eleven at night, Timmy even talked about Vicky a little, the whole time he did, Tootie had a knowing look on her face. Apparently the hospital was very lenient when it came to visiting hours.

"I'm getting tired Tootie, I should probably head home..." for the first time in a long time, he was actually, truly tired. But there was another reason for him wanting to leave; he had come here hoping to be here for her in her final hours, and now he was trying to leave like a coward, hoping to avoid feeling again. If there was anyone in the world whose death could affect him, it would be Tootie's. And part of him didn't want it to.

"Oh, don't worry about it. The receptionist doesn't care, and besides, I want someone here..."

"Alright... I'll stay." he sat down in the chair by the bed and made himself comfortable. He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about.

Tootie fell asleep before he did, her breathing was becoming labored, he knew she wouldn't last much longer, and he felt bad for her that Vicky didn't come, but at least he could make her last hours somewhat enjoyable. It was around midnight when Timmy fell asleep in the chair.

At one in the morning, the door to Tootie's room opened, and a figure, dressed in a green sweat shirt and black jeans, entered the room, the door made a clicking noise as it closed, waking Tootie.

"Hello?"

"Hey Toots..." the figure pulled down the hood of the sweat shirt.

"V-Vicky?!"

"Shush! Keep your voice down!" she gestured over to Timmy.

"Where have you been?!"

"Out and about..."

"And you couldn't call?!"

"I... Yeah, that was stupid of me..."

"You're damn right it was! We were worried sick! Mom, Dad, me, and Timmy especially!" she began coughing from her outburst.

"Easy Tootie, easy. You guys may have been worried, but he wasn't..."

"After all this time... How can you still think that?" Tootie sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "He got here this morning and we talked all day." she took a sip of water. "He always wondered where you were, he always hoped you'd come back..."

"It's a lie, it has to be, after what I did to him, and what he did to me..."

"Vicky... That's all in the past, let it stay in the past. He thinks he's alone in the world now, no friends left, no family, I'm all that's left, and I've got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel..."

"Don't talk like that..." Vicky looked away from her sister and out the window. _"Should've stayed away like I wanted to..."_

"It's the truth, you are all he has left, and very soon he'll be all you have left. I don't know why time has abandoned the two of you, but you both need to stick together..."

"But he hates me..."

"Now you're just lying to yourself... When we talked today, I could see it in his face and hear it in his voice whenever he spoke about you, he loves you..."

"Don't. _He_ may be fond of bullshitting me, but don't you start, not now." her voice was shaking now.

"I can't believe that all those years, I tried to win his heart, and failed, and you, without even trying or intending to, succeeded, and you left him. He doesn't even care, even all these years later, he loves you."

"This is too much..." Vicky walked over to the side of Tootie's hospital bed and knelt next to it, grabbing Tootie's hand.

"It'll be okay, Vicky."

"Ha..." Vicky chuckled humorlessly. "I'm supposed to be the big sister and support you, now look at us, talk about role reversal..."

Vicky stood up and sat down in the chair next to the one Timmy was currently sleeping in. Getting back to Dimmsdale had been harder than she thought it would be, the ordeal had exhausted her, even with her nearly limitless energy.

"Get some rest, Vicky, and think about what I said... I'll see you around."

"Yeah..." Vicky relaxed into the chair, and felt sleep come over her. She slumped over and her head fell to rest against Timmy's.

"Hmph... You two... You may make a cute couple, but you're both completely oblivious..." Tootie felt her eyes begin to feel heavy. "See you around... Not likely..." her eyes closed for the last time.

_The next morning..._

Vicky awoke first and stretched, she felt stiff from sleeping in an uncomfortable chair. She looked around the room and noticed Timmy, he was still asleep. "Hmph."

She walked over to Tootie and placed her hand over hers, noticing it was cold, colder than last night.

"Tootie?" she shook her sister. "Tootie?" she shook her harder. "C'mon, Tootie!"

There was no response, no breathing, no movement, nothing. Vicky continued shaking her sister, and began to cry.

"Tootie! Wake up! C'mon! Wake up!" she was sobbing now, and her legs might as well have been made of jello as she collapsed to her knees next to the bed.

"I should've been here more... I shouldn't have left... Dammit! I'm so stupid..." she felt a hand on her shoulder as she knelt by the bed. Looking up, she found Timmy, staring down at Tootie, then he focused on her, he was crying too. He didn't say anything as he knelt down and wrapped his arms around Vicky in a tight embrace. She tried to push him away, she didn't want him to see her like this, sobbing on the floor, weak. After several seconds of fruitless struggling, she realized he wasn't about to let her go, she returned the hug and cried even harder.

"You- You'd better be serious about what you're doing, Timmy... If- if this isn't real, I'll leave, and you won't see me _ever_ again." she waited for his response, waited for him to say 'April Fools' or 'You've been punked' or something, something to indicate it was all a trick.

She pulled away and looked at his face, his eyes were red and puffy, likely reflecting how hers looked.

"Vicky, I- ...I love you, and I miss you, please, come back home." he then pulled her into another hug.

She hadn't expected that though. She expected him to laugh at her weakness, and was dumbfounded at his actual response.

"_Well, shit."_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, as I said, heavy re-writing had to be done for this story, but this is where there's a good sized deviation from the original story. The next few chapters will likely have elements from the original story, but I've got loose ends to tie up and what not. Also this chapter is lemon flavored.

* * *

They stood in Tootie's hospital room, listening to the doctor as he explained the grieving process to them, he didn't know that the two before him had been through this many times before. They both wore expressionless masks now, Vicky didn't want anyone to see her as weak, and Timmy put up a wall of indifference, as he felt about the same as she did right now. They had cried over Tootie's death, comforted each other as much as either would allow given their current setting, and now were ready to get as far away from the hospital room as they could, yet the doctor talking to them didn't seem as eager to let them leave, at least, not yet.

"Are you two her only remaining family?"

"No, she's my... aunt, this is my... brother, Timmy. The rest of the family moved to England a few years back... We're just the only ones left in the country, though I don't expect them to come back anytime soon..." Timmy was perplexed by this information, though he didn't show it. Did Tootie have family in England? And why lie about who they were anyway?

"I'm sorry for your loss then, Miss?"

"Vi-... Veronica. My name's Veronica, sorry, forgot to introduce myself... must have slipped my mind..." she heard Timmy snicker at the mention of her fake name.

"Well, Veronica... It was nice to meet you and Timmy, do you need any help with funeral arrangements or anything?"

"No thank you, we're fine." Nowadays, a quick phone call was all it took to set up funeral arrangements, it made it feel impersonal, but for two people who were doing their best to remain as devoid of emotion as possible, it might be seen as a blessing.

"I'll take my leave then." they were left alone in the room again. Timmy looked over to Vicky who was looking at Tootie.

"You want me to give you a minute? To say goodbye, I mean."

"I've made my peace already, lets go." they started for the door, Timmy exiting first, followed by Vicky, who stopped at the threshold. "Goodbye, Tootie." she shut the door behind her.

They walked down the hall to the elevators in silence, then rode the elevator down seventy-two floors in a similar silence. Upon reaching the parking lot, Timmy finally spoke up. "So why lie about your name? I doubt anyone around here will remember you..."

"It's... I guess I'm so used to using fake names, aliases... Second nature, y'know?"

"You didn't lie about my name..."

"Timmy is a fairly common name. I haven't met more than two Vickys in my travels. Makes things easier if I don't leave a trail."

"Huh... fair enough. Where's your car? I'll walk you over to it."

"Don't have one." Vicky remarked nonchalantly.

"What?! What happened? You had one when you left..."

"I traded it in. Wanted money for it, and walking is healthier."

"How long ago?"

"About... twenty... five years ago, I think?"

"You've been walking for twenty-five years?!"

"Well not _everywhere_, I can't walk on water yet, and sometimes I took a train, or a bus, or a plane..."

"Where did you take a plane?!"

"Out of the country."

"Why?"

"U.S. was getting boring."

"See anything interesting?"

"All that there was to see. Natural wonders, people who claimed they were the messiahs reborn of religions that they followed, the rise and fall of so many countries... everything."

"Why did you leave? Was it because of me? Because I cursed the both of us?"

"You were only partly the reason. I hated you for what you did, for years even, but I got over it, eventually. The main reason I left was to find a way out, to get rid of the curse, for both of us."

"And?"

"I think you know the answer..."

"Oh..." He wasn't all that surprised really. Not in regards to her being unable to cure their 'affliction'. He was more surprised to find that he _wasn't_ surprised at her being back. He had told himself for years that he'd hug her and kiss her if he ever saw her again, and to Hell with how she responded to his affections. Yet now... they were talking like old friends again, like she had never left in the first place. He was almost afraid to confront her about it, worrying that he'd say the wrong thing and she'd leave again.

"Do you have a car?" she expected him to answer in the negative.

"Yeah, we already passed it." he pointed over to his 'antique' in a handicapped parking spot.

"Talk about vintage..."

"Hey, I like it! Besides, I'm afraid of heights, you won't see me in any flying deathtrap any time soon..."

"It's a Pontiac GTO..."

"_I like it_." he spoke a bit more forcefully this time.

"From 1969..."

"Just get in the frickin' car..." he knew she'd tease him about the car.

"How does this even still run? It's over a hundred years old!"

"Regular maintenance..."

"What have _you_ been doing while I was gone?"

"Learning, mostly about anything that interests me, and working, usually odd jobs."

"The house still standing?"

"Barely."

They both got into the car, Vicky feeling slightly out of place, normally she drove. "Are you all right?" for once, Vicky did not mask the concern in her voice.

"Me? I'm fine, why do you ask?"

"You aren't."

"Are you seriously trying to play therapist?"

Ignoring his question, Vicky continued. "What have you been doing these past few decades? Really."

"You mean after you left?" it was not a questioning tone.

"Yeah..."

"I told you. I... worked, kept myself busy... Why does it matter?"

"Because you're not the same fifteen year old I left behind all those years ago."

"...I tried to move on after you left. I wanted to forget about you, move on with my life..."

"Forget about me?" it was odd. She was... she felt... hurt? That must be it. She hadn't felt hurt in a long time, physical or emotional.

"You abandoned me!" Timmy slammed on the brakes and looked at Vicky. "I tried to forget about you, I buried myself in various jobs to keep from thinking about you. I _wanted _to move on; you were gone and that was that. I told myself that everyday... but even then, I couldn't. You were always on my mind at some point or another..." Timmy returned his attention to the road and continued driving back towards his house.

"...I left for us; to try and break the curse so we could die... Do you hate me for that?"

Timmy sighed and seemed to think over what she said. "Any rational person _would_ hate you for leaving... you didn't even leave me a note..."

"I-"

"But I told you before, I don't hate you. Why else would I be unable to get you out of my thoughts? If I hated you, would I have chased after you in the cemetery all those years ago? Told you I missed you? Damnit, would I have admitted to loving you if I hated you?!"

Vicky didn't respond at first, opting instead to giggle at the brunet.

"What?"

"I started this conversation because I wanted to ask you why you were so cold and emotionless... but I guess it was me. One little conversation, and you're screaming at me like the old days..."

"You-! ...You're such a brat..."

"I think that's a case of the Pot calling the Kettle black, isn't it?"

"Maybe..."

A strange yet comfortable silence fell over them again, but such things weren't meant to last.

"Are you even old enough to drive?"

"Well technically, yes. I may look fifteen, but I'm actually...eighty-six, I think. Besides, I've never had any accidents, so I think I know what I'm doing."

"If time hadn't left us behind, you'd be too _old_ to drive now..."

Timmy began to giggle at her comment, and Vicky joined him with her own light snickering, before both burst into loud laughter, though it quieted down after a few more seconds.

They finally reached the house, after a car ride full of just a little too much nervous silence, and Vicky stepped out of the car to survey the house.

The paint was peeling off of it everywhere, the wood below the paint was rotted and old, the foundation had countless cracks, and the yard was a rainforest. She was surprised that the windows weren't broken or that the house hadn't collapsed under its own weight.

"What a dump."

"I'm not very good at home improvement..."

Timmy walked to the front door, unlocking it and holding it open for Vicky, he smiled at her, and was met with a look of uncertainty.

"This is your home too, Vicky. Always will be."

"That's really cheesy..."

Timmy put his hand on her back and lightly pushed her into the house.

"Pushing a lady?! What would your parents think?!"

"Very funny." Timmy followed her in and shut the door behind them. "I didn't feel like standing around all day waiting for you to go in."

Vicky walked over to the couch and sat down, she stared at the TV, the same one she had bought all those years ago. "This thing still work?"

"Look around, the outside may be in shambles but..."

She now noticed that the inside of the house was still very much the same, same arrangement, same furniture, same wallpaper even.

"Doesn't it get boring after so many years of the same thing? I mean, _I_ never stayed in the same place for more than a few months, I moved from place to place, never getting close to any one, never putting down any roots..."

"Kind of a lonely existence, isn't it?"

"Suits me fine, the fewer number of times I have to go through... what I just went through at the hospital, the better."

"Can I... get you anything? A drink? Some food?"

"I don't suppose you have any pink lemonade?"

"Lucky for you, I like it as well, so we have some." he went into the kitchen and returned with a couple of metal-looking bottles.

"Why are they metal? And what's this button for?" she pointed to a small silver button on the side.

"You haven't heard? Metal bottles like this are auto-refill, you press the button when they're empty and it refills it, up to five times, then you gotta recharge it."

"Sounds expensive."

"It is."

"They didn't have anything like this when I was traveling the world... It's... well, it's amazing."

"Yeah, technology expands by leaps and bounds, but weaponizing new technology still seems to be the norm these days..."

"Some things never change... Though I doubt they'd be able to weaponize this." Vicky shook the metal bottle for emphasis.

"No, I suppose not." Timmy chuckled lightly.

He sat with Vicky on the couch, absently flipping through the channels, before releasing a sigh. "Ten thousand channels, still nothing good on." he dropped the remote between them.

"The future sucks." Vicky crossed her arms and pouted.

There was silence between them now, the only noise coming from some nonsensical show on the TV.

"Will you stay?" Timmy glanced over at Vicky.

"Hm?" Vicky had been thinking of what she would do next, she wanted to head out again, wanted to see what else the world had to offer.

"Will you stay here, with me? I know you're probably thinking of heading out again, seeing the sights, things like that, but..."

"I don't know..." she still wasn't sure, he may have confessed how he felt, but she wasn't sure if she felt it too; no, it wasn't that. She knew how she felt about the brunet, even though they had been apart for a few decades, she still felt how she had felt back then. She just wasn't sure if she was willing to trust someone, let someone in, see her for who she was... She had forgiven him for what he had done to the both of them sure, but...

"You know how they say that if you love someone, or something, to let it go, and if it returns to you to love it forever?"

"Yeah..."

"Well fuck that."

"Wha-?" Vicky was taken aback by the teen's usage of such a word.

"You left once already and I was too afraid to stop you, and I put on a brave face, acting like it didn't bother me. But it did, you left me alone and I was terrified that I'd never see you again, that's why I chased after you in the cemetery, tried to talk to you, I desperately wanted you to come home."

"But-"

"And now, you're all I have left, there's no one else. I love you Vicky. I can't... I can't be all alone again, not after this. I-" This was it, if he was ever going to open up to someone, it had to be now. "I need you. Here. With me."

Vicky sighed in defeat. There was no getting around it now, if she left, he'd surely follow her... and after what he had just said, finally opened up to her... It wouldn't be right to put him through that again. She had learned much during her trek around the world, learned to have humility, learned to be a better person... "I guess I'll stay, for now. But there are too many bad memories here in Dimmsdale. We'll have to leave, eventually."

"Then we'll leave together." Timmy slid over next to Vicky and put an arm around her, letting his head come to rest on her shoulder.

Vicky stiffened at his touch, a lifetime of distancing yourself from people had that effect. After nearly a full minute, she felt comfortable enough to relax into his embrace.

"We're both seriously fucked up, you know that, right?"

"Meh."

"Well said." she laughed lightly and rested her head against his.

They stayed like that for several hours, not needing to say anything to each other. The TV continued to play some show that neither of them cared about, yet neither felt like moving from the embrace to turn it off. It was nice to be able to sit and enjoy someone's presence, especially after so many years of avoiding getting close to anyone.

"So..." Timmy began.

"Hm?"

"Funny story... I kinda moved into your room after you left, my room is just a storage room now..."

"Storage for what?"

"After you left and I started working, I spent a lot of time trying to fill the hole, mostly with material possessions..."

"How packed is your room?"

"There's... a path..."

"No bed?"

"I'm sure it's in there, somewhere..."

"Well, I took most of my stuff with me when I left, so I suppose you could do what you wanted with my room... well, your parents' room... But where am I gonna sleep?"

"On the couch?" he looked up at her with a smirk.

Vicky deadpanned at Timmy.

"I'm kidding! I'll take the couch. You can have the room back."

"Looks like the years have made you wiser." she stood and started for the stairs, yet stopped halfway up them.

Timmy just stared at her upside-down from his lying down position on the couch. Not saying a word.

"Ugh... Just come up with me already!"

Timmy scrambled off the couch and to his feet, quickly following Vicky upstairs.

She rolled her eyes as Timmy nearly crashed into her and opened the door. "Huh. It hasn't changed much..." the room was relatively unchanged from the last time Vicky had seen it, a queen bed, a large dresser, and a wardrobe, still no TV.

"Not big on interior decorating either..."

Vicky closed the door behind them and took off her shoes, socks, and sweat shirt, leaving her in her green t-shirt and black jeans, then laid down on the bed.

Timmy stood near the door.

"You need an invitation or something?"

"No I-"

"Then come and lay down, I think we've both had a pretty rough day, don't you?"

Timmy went to the other side of the bed and climbed into it, he was suddenly aware of himself feeling very nervous. Nervous? He couldn't for the life of him remember the last time he had felt _nervous_. It felt like it may have been decades ago, and considering how long it had been since he acknowledged his feelings for the slightly older woman, it very well could have been.

Vicky threw her legs over his and stared at him. "This remind you of anything?"

"You want a massage? Really?" he stared at her legs, then her face in disbelief.

"Yeah, I _really_ do."

"Kinda hard to do with you wearing jeans..."

Vicky stood and removed her jeans, leaving her in black panties. "Happy?"

"Define happy. I didn't really expect you to be so... immodest?"

"I still know what modesty means, I'm just not as modest around you... Count yourself lucky." she got back into bed and laid her legs across his. "Now, if you don't mind, I've been walking for about twenty-five years."

"Right." he began rubbing her legs, trying his best to suppress the blush forming on his cheeks.

"Are you blushing?"

"What?! N-no! Just your imagination!"

"Weird. You didn't blush last time you did this..."

"You were... slightly more clothed then, and I didn't feel then the way I do now..."

"So I make you nervous...?"

"...A little..." he felt there was little need in hiding it at this point, closing himself off from her... He didn't need to do it, not anymore, considering he had admitted his feelings to her twice now.

"I'll have to use this against you somehow!" she began cackling evilly, then stopped abruptly. "Eh... I don't have it in me right now... Have I mentioned you're really good at this?"

"It was a few decades ago, and I figured you were trying to spite me, you made fun of my lack of relationship experience shortly after."

"Oh...right. Sorry about that..."

He pinched her leg in response.

"Ah!"

"Seriously? _That_ didn't hurt..."

Vicky leaned forward and pinched Timmy's arm.

"Ow." he rubbed at the spot that she pinched. "Okay, maybe it did." It figured that he didn't feel a thing when he cut his hand or fell twenty-nine stories, but a little teasing pinch still hurt. He was willing to bet that Wanda; wherever she may be, was laughing at him now... He watched as Vicky rubbed at the spot that he pinched, and a rather bold thought occurred to him.

"Jeez, I invite you into my bed and you-Ah! Hey!" Vicky was interrupted as Timmy moved her hand away and leaned down to press his lips against the spot instead. This move, being entirely unexpected, caused Vicky's cheeks to redden in embarrassment, especially considering he was kissing her upper thigh.

"Better?" Timmy asked as he pulled away.

"W-what the hell was _that_?!" she really, _really_ wanted to kick him for that. What was he thinking being all bold and... and... affectionate like that?!

"You've never gotten hurt and had one of your parents kiss it to make it feel better?"

"I didn't say that! But you're not my mom! D-don't do that again!"

Timmy had to keep himself from laughing at Vicky's flustered reaction. "Or what?" Oh yes, he was definitely feeling bolder now. Maybe she had drawn it out of him, made him stop feeling so miserable and empty... He'd have to find a way to pay her back... Timmy shifted her legs off his lap and crawled over to Vicky on all fours. "Y'know, I really did miss you."

"Good for you." her blush didn't fade in the slightest, and she felt herself losing control of the situation, so she swept her legs out from under Timmy, making him fall onto the bed in a heap as she knocked his left arm and leg out from under him, causing him to faceplant into the mattress.

"Mmph..." Timmy righted himself and narrowed his eyes at the red-head. "That wasn't very nice..."

"Never said I was." she crossed her arms and looked away from Timmy and out the window, it seemed to be quite late. _"Should've checked the time before we came up-"_

"You're not thinking of leaving, are you?"

"Son of a-!" Vicky had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Timmy crawl over to her. His sudden question caused her to jump away in surprise, and right off the bed... or it would've, if Timmy hadn't awkwardly caught her. Awkwardly because Vicky looked up at him to see that his left arm was wrapped around her waist and back to hold her up, and the other was hanging on to the headboard of the bed to keep them both from falling off. The cheeky brunet had also positioned himself between her legs in the effort to keep her from falling, leaving him pressing up against her. _"...__It's fine... long as he doesn't move AT ALL... and doesn't say how awkward this position is..."_

"Ahem..." a rosy tint now found its way across Timmy's cheeks. "This feel a little... awkward... to you?"

"Of course you'd say something like that..."

"What?" Timmy began pulling Vicky back onto the bed and away from the edge.

"Nothing. I- Ah..." Unfortunately, Timmy's act of pulling himself and Vicky back on the bed caused his jeans to rub against a _very_ sensitive place on the girl, eliciting a _very_ unwelcome moan from said girl, which in turn caused her to cover her face with her hands.

"Oh! Are you alright?"

Evidently, Timmy still didn't realize that it was quite impossible for either of them to hurt the other.

To be fair though, that wasn't an 'Ah' of pain.

Timmy leaned forward again to see if she was alright, earning him a hard kick to the middle of his chest, knocking him off Vicky, off the bed, and onto the floor.

The fifteen year old sat up from the floor and rubbed his chest. That kick had easily been strong enough to break a few ribs, and he likely would be in quite a bit of pain without their little curse. "Okay..." Timmy rubbed the back of his head in confusion. "Did I do something wrong?" As he stood up from the floor, he noticed that there was now a Vicky-shaped lump wrapped in a blanket on the bed. _"What's her problem?" _Timmy climbed back into bed and crawled over next to Vicky. "...Vicky?"

The Vicky-shaped mass pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Are you okay? I... I was just trying to keep you from falling out of bed..." Timmy leaned over to try and get a better look at her face, the only part of her that wasn't covered over by blanket.

"_Just go away..."_ She didn't really want him to leave the room, after all, she had already invited him to sleep in the bed with her... But it had been a long, _long_ time since she had been even remotely intimate with someone.

She thought back to the last one she could remember... it had been in... _"England? I think it was England..."_ She had been staying with a group of fairly wealthy people, mostly just so she could save up enough to move on, and had decided to corner her host's son in his bedroom, locking the door so he couldn't get away. She had pushed him onto the bed and torn away his clothes(and some of her own), but... Found he was unable to _rise_ to the occasion; though it may have had something to do with the knife pressed to his throat. _"Probably could've gone about that better..."_

It didn't matter. She hadn't tried again after that, it had been hard enough to get out of the city once the police found out about what she tried to do. Half a century was a long time to go without intimacy.

"Vicky?"

"_Right... suppose I should explain why I... Why do _I_ have to be the one to tell him about..."_ Vicky threw the blanket off herself. "Have you... I mean, I've been gone a while, so... you must've had a girlfriend or something by now, right? Or just... invited a girl over to mess around?"

"Mess around?"

"You know... 'Insert tab A into slot B'?" Vicky made a circle with her right hand and stuck her left index finger through it.

"Why would I invite someone over to help me read an Ikea manual?"

Vicky sighed and hung her head in defeat. "Have you had sex?"

"Ohh... _That_."

"Yes. That."

"..."

"You haven't, have you?"

"I... You know I've... been avoiding getting close to people..."

"So...?"

"No. I haven't... done that."

"It's called sex-"

"I know what it's called!"

"_Back on top..."_ Vicky snickered inwardly.

"Have you?"

"Me? Well I... of- of course I have! I'm twenty-one years old, not counting how long I've not been aging! You think I... what? I'm a virgin or something?! You do see how good I look, right?"

"Well... yeah..." Timmy looked away and scratched his nose.

"Um... Good! Glad you... noticed..." Vicky put her hands together and pushed her index fingers against each other, a bit of a nervous habit she had picked up... somewhere...

"...So... did I... hurt you earlier or...?"

"No... not hurt so much as..." Vicky took pause so she could think carefully about what she was about to say. _"All these years, and he's still so naïve..." _"So... you want to...?"

"What?"

"Try it?"

"Try what?"

Vicky frowned, she was starting to get a little annoyed. "_That_."

"It's called sex."

"I know what it's- ...You are such a dick."

Timmy giggled as Vicky realized that he had been messing with her. "Sorry... I guess I was just trying to get back at you for all those times you tortured me." he covered his mouth as he began laughing harder.

"You know what? I think I _will_ take the couch." Vicky began moving toward the edge the bed.

"C'mon... I was just messing around..." Timmy crawled after her and wrapped his arms around her midsection, resting his head on her shoulder as he did. "I was telling the truth y'know. Distancing myself from people, avoiding relationships..."

"Saving yourself for me?"

"Ugh... not like that!" he laughed at her joke. "I just didn't want to get into a relationship with someone that I was bound to outlive. Watching them grow old while I stayed the same..."

"..." Vicky sighed before she spoke again, then moved her hands so they came to rest on his. "I guess I've pretty much done the same..."

"What about-"

"I lied, okay? Since you insist on telling the truth... Might as well do the same. My nights haven't been filled with sexy parties and questionable bedmates. There was never any time to settle down and get into a serious relationship, and I'm not about to sleep with the first lowlife I see. Prefer it to be with someone special. Someone I know." _"__That other guy didn't count."_ she briefly wondered if her companion would get the hint.

"...You know I don't have any real expertise with this kind of thing, right?"

"_Good, he's not as naïve as I thought."_ "I'd say that makes two of us... but I'd be lying." Vicky was suddenly aware of Timmy's fingers in her hair. "What're you-" she felt him take out her hair tie and watched as he placed it on the bedside table.

"Never liked your ponytail." Vicky felt him shrug against her.

"_Really now?"_ she stood up and turned around to face him, then roughly pushed him back on the bed. "I never liked those jeans."

"My jeans-?"

Before Timmy could finish, Vicky leaned over him and undid his belt and jeans, then yanked them off and tossed them away. "Matter of fact, I'm feeling a certain degree of disdain for your whole outfit tonight..." she leaned down again, grabbing the collar of his shirt before roughly yanking it and tearing it off of him. After tossing it away, Vicky returned her attention to Timmy to find him frowning at her.

"I liked that shirt..." Timmy watched as the tattered remains of his pink shirt fluttered to the floor.

"Pfft. You've got plenty more."

Timmy stopped to consider both what she said, and what they were likely about to do, now wasn't the time to show hesitation, considering this was Vicky. "Suppose you're right." he sat up on the bed, bringing his hands up to rest on her waist, then sliding them up and under her shirt. Maybe it was because it was his first time being this intimate with a girl, or maybe it was the rekindled feelings for the red-head in front of him, but Timmy loved the feeling of her pale, smooth skin.(And judging by the goosebumps he could feel breaking out across said skin, Vicky seemed to equally enjoy his touch.) His hands wandered further upward, coming to a stop where her bra began.

"You might try getting the shirt off first."

"...Right. Eh... right..." Timmy looked away in embarrassment as his hands found their way back down to the hem of Vicky's shirt, then lifted it up and off her... At least, he tried, but Vicky wasn't cooperating, opting instead to watch his fumbling attempts with no small amount of amusement. "Can you work with me here?" he looked at her and frowned again. Why did she have to make even _this_ into something difficult?

"What's the magic word?"

"Can you _please_ work with me and stop being a bitch?"

"Hm... a bit forceful... but you _did_ say please..." Vicky raised her arms up over her head, allowing Timmy to lift her shirt up and off, before tossing it away. "You could've just torn it off, since I ruined _your_ shirt..." she watched as Timmy seemed to ignore what she said, returning his hands to roaming over her hips, and up her back instead. "Not interested much in foreplay?"

"Not really..." he obviously wasn't concentrating very much on what she was saying, the clasp on her bra was apparently more interesting. Yet he stopped as his hands came to rest on where the clasp would be. "What's foreplay?" He looked up at her with an almost childlike curiosity.

"Eh... nevermind."

"Hm." Timmy yanked her forward and into his lap, hopefully allowing him better access to the offending clasp. "Aren't these things supposed to have clasps back here or... Or something?!"

The twenty-one going on ninety-two year old giggled at the brunet's frustration. _"So cute... and so _much_ to teach him..."_ "Actually yes, most of them do." Vicky reached behind herself to grab Timmy's hands and slid them back down to rest on her hips. "But! Not this one." Vicky brought her hands to the front of her chest, and Timmy heard a clicking sound. "This one's clasp is in the frontsies!" Within seconds, Vicky had taken the bra off and tossed it away, letting it land among her other discarded clothes, and Timmy's damaged clothes. "Hm... this is the first time you've actually seen boobs, isn't it?"

"Uh..." Timmy's gaze remained fixed on Vicky's chest, her question going in one ear and out the other without stopping for identification.

"Hmph. One track mind." Vicky gave him a forceful poke to the forehead with her finger. "Not to say I'm particularly surprised."

"Those... those are nice."

Vicky rolled her eyes at this statement. "Typical male gaze, thanks."

"Just give me a sec to take a mental picture..." his request trailed off near the end.

"_Hmph. Still not very confident, but I suppose it's more fun to let him think he won't be getting a sight like this again, maybe he'll appreciate it more that way..." _Another reason Vicky knew that Timmy was so unfocused made itself known by pressing against a certain sensitive area. _"Takes a lot of blood to get the male brain to work, and most of it is clearly _not_ rushing to the head on his shoulders." _Vicky crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them up slightly. Okay, so maybe she wasn't as modest as she claimed to be, there really wasn't any need to be, not around Timmy.

"Can I... er..."

Even in the darkness of the room, Vicky could tell Timmy was blushing. Was he really asking her permission? "Touch them?"

Timmy gulped audibly, before nodding his head slowly, nervously.

"Nope. Just thought it'd be more fun to show them to you, no touchy."

There was that awkward silence again as Timmy's gaze finally left her chest to look at her face; to see that she was grinning at him.

"Sarcasm."

"Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh'." she was positively giddy with excitement now. After all, she had the brunet right where she wanted him: under her control. She brought her right arm up and swiped it right over his head, knocking his pink hat across the room, then brought said arm back to grab his left hand and place it on her chest. "Do I have to do everything?"

Again, her question went unanswered as Timmy seemed to think carefully about his next move. His hand still rested on her right breast, but he apparently had trouble believing that the current events were actually occurring.

"Ugh. It's like I'm about to screw a robot."

Evidently, Vicky's teasing had finally set Timmy off as he picked her up and threw her down on the bed, then crawled onto her and crashed his lips into hers, preventing any chance of protest.

"_Finally."_ Vicky thought to herself. However, before she had a chance to return the kiss, Timmy pulled away with an apologetic look. "What?" her impatience made itself evident in her voice.

"Sorry... I got... a little angry at you for what you said." he leaned back down and kissed her, much more gently this time.

Vicky pushed him away, now she was a bit curious. "Wait, why are you sorry? I was _telling_ you to get on with it, and you did just that!"

"Yeah... but I hurt you earlier when I pinched you, then again when I kept you from falling off the bed-"

"_I wouldn't say _hurt_ in regards to the second one..."_

"I think... I'm so used to not getting hurt... that I don't really think about if I might hurt other people..."

"You do realize that we can't really hurt each other, right?"

"Maybe you should consider you're own strength first, that last kick from you busted up my ribs."

"Kick?" Vicky thought back to a few minutes earlier when she released that unwanted moan. "Oh... I- I did?"

"Yeah..." Timmy rubbed at the spot where she had kicked, more for effect than because it hurt. "I'm alright, but-"

"Then what's it matter?"

"Well... I guess it doesn't..."

"...Good."

"Mm." again Timmy kissed Vicky, but it was gentle... reserved, like last time. The greed from the first was completely absent now.

Vicky pushed him away slightly, then used the momentary shock to flip them over, returning her to being on top. _"Something's up."_ she pressed herself against the bulge in his boxers. _"...Something besides that. He's clearly still in the mood..."_

Timmy moved his hands back up to Vicky's waist, hooking the thumb and index finger of each hand into the waistband of her underwear. "Everything all right?"

"_Why does he sound so concerned?" _Vicky focused her attention on Timmy's eyes. She had a knack for reading people, and the blue-eyed teen was no exception. In fact, she could read him even better than most others, likely because of how long she had known him. She had always liked his eyes, they weren't gray-blue like most blue-eyed people, they were more brilliant than that. The word 'beautiful' had crossed her mind, but she wasn't sure how he'd take the compliment, nevermind how her ego would feel about admitting it.

After a few seconds that seemed far longer, she realized what was going on. _"He's trying to trick me! Letting me take control of the situation, yet making us go at his pace... Very clever..."_ "I see your game, Twerp."

"Game?"

"_Okay, nevermind." _Vicky mentally deadpanned. His _very_ confused response indicated there wasn't any sort of trickery at work here. "...I've got it!"

"Got what?" _"God, this girl is so weird..."_

"You're afraid you'll hurt me. _That's_ why you're being gentle, letting me take control... You're afraid you might hurt me..." Vicky chuckled at her realization, though not mockingly.

"...Maybe..." Timmy looked away.

"_Mm-hm. Thought so. I can read you like a book." _"Here I was, ready for a night of screwing around, maybe digging my nails into your back, and you want to take it slow..." Vicky leaned down and propped her head up in her hands, right in front of Timmy's face, her elbows on either side, holding her up. "You should've told me sooner. Tender and gentle is new for me... Maybe you should take the lead?"

"I think you might be disappointed if I take the lead..." he continued to not meet her gaze. Not only was he embarrassed at having been found out, but now she was teasing him. _Again_.

"Self-deprecation does not become you..." Vicky smirked as she felt Timmy's mildly fumbling attempts at pulling her underwear down. "You do realize that if I take the lead, I probably won't be gentle?" she straightened out a little so that he could undress her more easily.

After finally getting her panties off and tossing them away, Timmy returned his gaze to meet hers. "You could try?"

Vicky grinned evilly and leaned down to whisper in Timmy's ear. "Where's the fun in that?" as she spoke, Vicky slid her right hand down Timmy's chest, then over his stomach, and ever lower until coming to stop at the waistband of his boxers. "Although... You _have_ been awfully patient, haven't you?"

"I already told y-you, I just- Geh!" Timmy cut himself off and gasped as Vicky slid her hand under the waistband of his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his member.

"Guess I know your off switch now, eh Twerp?" Vicky stroked her hand up and down his length a few times, eliciting a moan from the brunet this time.

"V-Vicky..."

"Ah Ah Ah..." she pulled her hand away and out of his boxers. "Can't have you finishing before we even get started, now can I?"

"F-finish... ing...?"

She snickered at how out of breath he was already. "Hm... You remember back when we first found out about the immortality thing? Back when strenuous activities still tired us out?"

Timmy didn't respond, though he still panted somewhat heavily.

"Anyway, I'm sure we've both worked hard enough over the years so that we don't get anywhere near as tired as we used to- Hey. Are you listening?" Vicky turned Timmy's head towards her with her index finger.

Timmy nodded slowly.

"Goody. What I'm saying is: I think because neither of us have really... Well, screwed around, maybe we're both a little... Sensitive? Down there?" Vicky glanced down at her and her bedmates' privates.

"It's possible... I suppose."

"Glad we're on the same page- Ah!"

Timmy snaked his arms back around Vicky and positioned her back on top of him, pressing some rather sensitive areas from both parties against each other. Even as Timmy unconsciously bucked his hips against Vicky, he managed to smirk up at her. This was slowly devolving into a competition to see who would break first.

"_Two can play at this game..."_ the red-head pressed against Timmy's now throbbing erection and grinded against it, causing him to suddenly sit up and wrap his arms around her, likely an attempt at urging her to stop before she sent him over the edge. She returned the gesture in kind, hoping he wouldn't realize that she had almost sent herself over the edge with that little stunt. "Don't... f-forget who's in... in charge..."

"I thought you wanted me to lead?"

His breath felt hot on her neck. "If you think you can..."

"You'll bear with me for not-"

"Just get on with it!" the tingling feeling in her navel and privates was much stronger than she had ever felt it before, she nearly ached for him to continue, her senses felt magnified tenfold, and her mind was in a not unwelcome haze.

Timmy gently laid Vicky down on the bed. It would not be wrong to say that Timmy felt very similar to how she did, the wait was killing him, especially since both knew _exactly_ what they wanted... But she had disappeared with no warning at all, kept him waiting for so many years...

So he was going to have a bit of fun at her expense. Just... a bit.

"You never did tell me what foreplay is." Timmy currently hovered over her, trying his best to maintain his plan, rather than lose himself in the red-head's beauty.

Vicky looked up at him, she felt the heat returning to her cheeks. _"What's he playing at _now_?" _"Everything we've been doing? The kissing, the touching... it's all been foreplay, why ask now?"

"Just wondering." Timmy leaned down again and recaptured Vicky's lips.

Vicky meanwhile, raised her right leg and gripped the waistband of Timmy's boxers with her toes, then pushed them down and off, which Timmy eventually assisted with.

Timmy suddenly pulled away, nearly taking Vicky with him as she leaned into the kiss. "But I have to ask-" Timmy moved in to kiss her again, but sank a bit lower to let his lips come to rest on her neck. "Does this-" another kiss, now on her collarbone. "Count as-" again a kiss, this time over her heart. "Foreplay-" He took a moment to stop and think now. Proceeding further would probably get him smacked, considering how she had acted earlier, but...

He opted to kiss the area between her breasts instead of his intended target. "Too?"

Vicky hadn't been paying attention, her mind was currently occupied with the pleasant torture the brunet was putting her through, and the realization that said brunet was still as clever as she should've remembered him being. She felt a kiss at her belly button and looked down at Timmy. The room may have been dark, but the absence of sight only enhanced her sense of touch, and right about now it felt like something warm and..._ wet_ was dragging against the skin below her navel. Something like...

"_That's probably enough teasing."_ Timmy thought as he came to the pink slit between Vicky's legs. It was true that he hadn't had any female companionship in his life, but he_ did_ have access to various movies and the internet over the decades. He wasn't as naïve as Vicky thought. So when he thrust his tongue into her, he wasn't particularly surprised as she cried out.

"Ahn..." Vicky moaned out as she sat up and her toes curled reflexively. _"This cheeky little-!" _She found she couldn't even complete a thought as her mind fell into a sea of pleasure. _"Maybe... it _has_ been too long..."_ She threaded her fingers through his hair and stopped herself as her fingers curled inward. _"Gentle. Right."_ Much as she wanted to get back at him for tricking her into thinking he didn't know what he was doing, she told herself she wasn't like that now. Vicky bit her lower lip to stop herself from releasing anymore noises, yet they now just came out slightly more muffled. "Twer- Nnh..." she tensed up as her mind careened over the edge and she climaxed. "F-fuck..." she crawled backwards and away from him. "Gimme... a sec..."

"Don't think so." Timmy crawled after her, only stopping as he felt Vicky bury her hands in his hair. He looked up at her and licked his lips. "What?"

"I just... need... a minute..." Vicky relaxed against the headboard and tried to get her breathing under control. She put her hand up to her forehead and let it rest there.

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." she gasped out.

"I-"

"No, you didn't hurt me, quite the opposite in fact."

"So... it was good?"

She was _not _about to admit that he had made her orgasm first. Definitely not. "It was good." _"It was great..."_ Still, she figured he deserved a few words of encouragement. "I think... that's enough foreplay." Vicky watched as Timmy moved closer to her, then let his hands come to rest on her hips. He almost pulled her over to him, but stopped and instead slid over in front of her.

"So... you ready to...?"

"Still trying to take things gently?" she laughed lightly.

"You _did_ tell me to take the lead..."

"Indeed I did." Vicky looped her arms around Timmy's neck and slid into a lying down position on the bed, once again with Timmy hovering over her.

Timmy positioned himself at her entrance. He would've preferred that she be the one on top, but... He leaned in-

"Ah!"

Timmy stopped. "What? Is- is something wrong?" He hadn't even done anything yet!

"Be gentle..." Vicky giggled and poked Timmy's nose. _"I'm _so_ gonna regret that..."_

"_Of course..."_ it just wouldn't be Vicky without a little teasing remark, would it? "You're beautiful."

"Huh?"

Timmy had to keep himself from laughing at her surprised face. She _definitely_ hadn't been expecting that. "But you knew that already." He slowly entered her, and felt her wrap her legs around him.

"I s-said gentle, not... teasingly!"

"There's a difference?"

"Fuck... you..."

Timmy looked down between the two of them. "Well... yeah-"

Vicky tightened her grip on him with her legs and pulled him into her. "Ah..."

"_Clearly we're past using our words at this point."_ he could tell from the way he felt(or he assumed anyway) that he probably wouldn't last too long, so he picked up his pace considerably now, thrusting into her again as he felt Vicky suppress the urge to dig her nails into his back.

Vicky had the familiar tingling feeling below her navel again and wrapped her legs even tighter around Timmy as she climaxed once more. She heard Timmy suck in a sharp breath and thrust into her once more. _"Well... at least we both finished that time..."_

"Vicky?"

"Y-yeah...?"

"I... think you might've broken a few of my ribs that time..."

"_Oh..."_ when she heard a light cracking sound, she assumed it was the old bed they were on making the noise. "Sorry..." she blushed as she looked up at him, she didn't realize she had been squeezing him _that_ hard... "You're... alright though?"

"I'll live." Timmy smirked down at her, then flipped them over so Vicky was on top of him. "I- that was-"

"...Yeah."

"Yeah."

Both were slick with sweat and panting heavily; neither had felt this tired in a long time. For once, they both felt normal; _mortal_, even.

"So..." Timmy began and Vicky looked down at him.

"Hm?"

"Wanna go again?"

"Sure you're up for it?" she grinned at him.

"Long as you're gentle." Timmy shrugged.

_The next morning..._

Timmy awoke to sunlight flooding in from the window, it felt like a laser being focused directly into his cornea. His sleep addled mind began piecing together the last night's events. He was currently aware of something soft and smooth beneath his head, something... that was breathing rhythmically. Looking up caused his blue eyes to meet to a pair of pink ones. Right, so last night _did_ happen. Timmy lifted his head up to look around. It seemed to be late morning... and his pillow had been Vicky's bare chest. "Well this is easily my favorite pillow ever now. Morning."

"Morning..." Vicky's hair was quite disheveled from the previous night's activities, and she almost looked... tired?

"Sleep well?" he now realized that he actually _felt_ tired. Exactly how many times had they done it last night?

"Better than I have in... decades."

"How're you feeling?"

"Good. Tired, but good. I think it may take a little while for us to recover after that..."

She was probably right. Timmy knew that his un-aging body adapted very well and very quickly, but last night... it had been an entirely new experience for him, and probably Vicky too. "So... what do you wanna do today? I could make us breakfast... or-"

"Nuh-uh." Vicky pulled him up next to her and scooted over so they could share the pillow she was using. "_You_ are staying right here and cuddling with me. No objections, I presume?"

Timmy didn't need to be an eighty-six year old immortal to know what the correct answer to that question was. "Works for me."

"Good, I had a feeling it would." Vicky slid a little closer to Timmy and rested her forehead against his. "Something I wanted to ask you."

"Go ahead."

Vicky felt Timmy snake his arms around her waist. "Can't keep your hands off me now, can you?"

It was true, he couldn't. And he knew why: he was afraid she'd leave again, even if she said she wouldn't leave without him, it didn't stop the fear from taunting him. "I like cuddling with you."

"...That wasn't the question, just so you know."

"I figured as much."

"When you made the wish, you said you didn't know it would affect me too, right?"

"...No..." Timmy felt he couldn't meet her gaze. Allowing himself to feel again meant inviting in the good feeling as well as the bad. Feelings like guilt.

"You know I... I forgive you, right? It was outside your control. I can't be mad at you for what you didn't know would happen."

"...You might not feel that way if I told you how I really feel..."

"...It's selfish, right?"

"Huh?" Timmy's eyes went wide. "How do you-?"

She cut him off with a tender kiss. "You didn't know it would affect me, but... you're happy it did now, right? Or at least some part of you is?"

Was he really that easy to read? Or did she just know him too well? "You're not wrong. I know you didn't want this life... But I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I don't have to spend my time alone."

"..."

"I'm selfish, aren't I?"

"You're human, there's nothing wrong with that." Vicky took a few moments to think over how best to word what she wanted to say. "And... I suppose... If I had to spend eternity with someone... I'd want it to be you."

"Really?"

Vicky nodded and her forehead brushed against Timmy's. "Really."

Timmy pulled Vicky into him and wrapped his arms more fully around the red-head. "I love you too."

"Wha?! That's not-!" Vicky squirmed in his grip for several seconds, but eventually relaxed and returned the hug. "Twisting my words around and stuff..."


End file.
